The Dark Temptations
by TeenMuggle
Summary: Written before S4. The kingdom is in disarray and a group of sorcerers want to recruit the legendary Emrys and seize Camelot. Merlin reluctantly agrees to join, intending only to be a spy for Arthur. But he soon discovers that temptation is a powerful thing. Finally COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

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**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Well, this is my latest story, something which has refused to leave me alone, prompting me to furiously write and write to try and cram all my ideas down on paper, even during class time...oops.**

**This is gonna be a sort of angst-y fic, completly different to my last one. Be warned! If you don't like angst-y suffering Merlin who on occasionally verges on Dark!Merlin, I suggest you don't read. He's gonna go through hell! Just coz I'm that mean :)**

**General info: Set after Series 3, so obviously massive spoilers if you haven't seen it yet. I'm not sure how this is gonna go yet, so there may be violence in later chapters (if I decide to continue). Pairings: Arthur/Gwen, with Lancelot added in to make it interesting :) Also I may be verging towards Merlin/Morgana in this fic, not entirely sure yet. **

**So, anyways, after that long rant...I hope you enjoy it! :D  
**

**The Dark Temptations**

**The Calm Before the Storm**

A full moon shone high in the sky over the Darkling woods, bathing them in an ethereal light, in which everything seemed incandescent. The forest was still, a dead calm prevailed. The trees themselves seemed to glow with a magical energy, and looked out, as though they were silent guardians of this word, and gatekeepers to the next.

A lone figure seemed to glide through these woods, a dark cloak billowing out behind it like a wisp of smoke, shining in the light of the moon. The figure was in no hurry. It made no noise as it passed, seeming as though it was a part of the forest itself, a spirit of the woods. It blended in well amongst the trees, moulding itself to the darkness. A darkness almost as intense as its own thoughts.

It emerged finally in a small clearing where it stood as a pillar, steeped in moonlight and shadow.

It lifted its head and stared with cold eyes at the sight before it.

The ground fell away before its feet, revealing a dark abyss, preceded by a tangle of roots and jagged rocks: the figure had come to the edge of a cliff.

It was here, that the figure had the first glance of the object of its musings and moonlit stroll. It was the perfect vantage point.

The city of Camelot sat proudly against the night sky, rising high out of the tangled mess of the woods. The moonlight seemed seemed to shine on it directly and reflect outwards, illuminating the strong walls.

The city was hushed. The city was asleep, unaware of the great evil that was brewing. The whole night was tranquil.

The figure smiled a cruel smile which lit up its eyes with a malicious sheen. It knew now that the time was near.

The One had been found.

The figure uttered a single word, in a low tone which permeated the heavy silence: "Emrys."

The Darkness was nigh.

* * *

"Merlin you clumsy oaf!" The voice of the future king rang out over the courtyard, but the passers-by did not even flinch. They had learned not to heed things like this, it was all too common: the clanging of armour hitting the cold stones of the courtyard and a sharp reprimand from the prince. It was now simply a part of the day.

So was the immediate protest.

"It wasn't my fault!" The skinny black-haired boy defended himself. "I tripped! That stone was wobbly!"

"Trust you to blame your own incompetence on a stone Merlin! Can't you even walk in a straight line?"

Merlin grumbled to himself: "At least I _can_ walk. _You _have to strut and swagger around everywhere."

Arthur chose to ignore this however. He continued the well-worn path to his father's throne room, leaving Merlin to scramble around gathering up the armour he had managed to send flying over the ground, groaning inwardly as he thought about having to clean and polish it all _again_.

Arthur was out of sight by the time Merlin had managed to pile it all back into his arms, feeling the weight heavily on his already aching arms. He sighed and made his way towards Arthur's chambers, dragging his feet wearily.

He had been completely run off his feet by Arthur the last few weeks, barely having any time to sleep, eat, or even have a life outside of his job. Not that Merlin blamed Arthur for giving him so much work, life had been hectic since...since Morgana had seized the throne. Everyone was tired. No one was unaffected. Even Arthur, burdened with so much responsibility, he had begun to succumb to extreme weariness and stress.

He passed masons and carpenters as he entered the castle, employed in repairing the massive sections of the walls and ceilings brought down by Morgana as she fled with Morgause. Nothing had been heard of either of them since.

Merlin's heart weighed heavily and seemed to ache as he remembered, causing much more pain and discomfort than the burden of armour in his arms. He remembered, remembered Morgana's screams as she brought the castle down around her.

During the months Morgana had been infiltrating the Royal Court and doing everything she could to destroy it from within, Merlin had learned to harden his heart, hiding away the heavy burden that lay upon him.

He had thought he had managed it, but that momentary lapse of weakness she had displayed as her eyes had fallen on her sister's prone form haunted him. It made Merlin think there was still some facet, however tiny, of emotion and love left within her. That Morgause had not fully driven it out.

But he tried to push away these thoughts as soon as they came by reminding himself of all the evil deeds she had done. No one with anything but a stone heart could have committed such atrocious acts; betraying her friends and family, destroying everything she had once loved. Merlin had to remind himself of this every day. It was easier to think of Morgana as a cold-hearted monster than as someone good, who had been twisted by fear, hate and suffering into something monstrous she could not escape. Twisted by the suffering he had helped to cause, by his negligence and deceit. He was tormented by thoughts of what would have happened had he had the courage to tell her. To share his secret.

It was his biggest regret. He could not bear the guilt. It had been him who had turned her into what she was.

What if he had not been so weak? If he had just been strong enough to let her know. What if he had just let her die after her fall instead of seeking a cure; could this have been prevented? Or would Morgause have retaliated?

What if he had told Arthur? What if he had had the courage to kill her outright? Could the suffering have been prevented?

He had tried to ask Kilgharrah about it, but the dragon had simply dismissed his worries and fears. 'Morgana is evil,' and that was that. But Merlin did not, could not, agree. No one can go from being so good, to so evil without cause. These thoughts tortured him.

Merlin found himself lying awake most of the night, turning over the same tormented thoughts in his mind again and again: "What if, what if, what if..."

Camelot was now an entirely different place. The people were more subdued. There was no laughter in the streets, no joy amongst the stone houses. They were wary and cautious, many had lost everything. The streets were practically empty, with people only leaving the house for supplies, hurrying to their destination and hurrying back home again. There was no time to stop for idle chatter, no time for cheer, they had to be home, to be with their families. They had to stick together. The air was tense. The city was decaying, along with its king.

Gaius had spent many days and nights by the king's bed, exhausting his supply of poultices and potions to revive him, and it had worked, to an extent. The king's physical health had been restored, but nothing else.

The king sat on his throne, the crown sat on his head, and death sat upon him. His back was no longer straight and proud, he no longer commanded a royal presence, he no longer inspired loyalty or devotion, only pity. He was a ruin of the man he once was. The light was gone from his eyes, there was no life there. He was simply there, a statue.

The shock of his daughter's betrayal and all that had ensued had been too much for him. The people lost faith. Why should they respect a man who could no longer command his people? A man who had fathered an illegitimate child by the wife of his close friend? What example was that for the people?

These were the rumours Merlin heard on the streets, rushed conversations in doorways before people scurried back to their homes. They were afraid, afraid of what was coming.

Rumours flew across the city, ranging from the placid, to one hysterical woman claiming Morgana had used some extreme form of Dark Magic and her spirit was now possessing the king's body.

Merlin knew the people needed a leader, someone to bring them out of their time of strife. And he knew no one better than Arthur.

Although Uther was technically still king, he was in no fit state to rule. He served as the figurehead, to display to the people that their king was still strong and would see them through the troubles, however, Arthur was the one who was really running things. It was pretty pointless, Merlin thought. The people aren't stupid, they know how bad things are for the king, gossiping servants had told them so much.

But still, Arthur refused to usurp his father, as he had done when Uther had been driven mad by the Mandrake. This time was much more serious however, and Merlin cursed Arthur's stubbornness. He refused to even proclaim himself Regent, he was adamant his father would recover. He wasn't trying to deny his responsibility for the kingdom, rather, delay it for a while. If Uther had died it would have been different, but this lingering...

He tried not to show it, but Merlin could tell: Arthur had suffered as much as anyone. He did not display any form of emotion, he didn't try to hide away, but marched out every morning, determined to face the new day, to be there for his people. But Merlin could see the pain it caused him. To have to repair the damage and destruction caused by your sister as she tried to destroy the entire kingdom was more than enough for any man to bear. And Arthur bore it well.

Still, Merlin thought, it couldn't last forever.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he failed to notice the figure he rammed into in the corridor. Seeing the red tunic with the crest of Camelot on it before he went tumbling to the floor he immediately assumed it was Arthur and blurted out:

"It wasn't my fault!"

A short chuckle sounded above him.

"I never said it was my friend."

Merlin's head shot up, and saw Lancelot standing above him. He grinned foolishly.

"Oh."

Lancelot laughed again, and reached down to pull Merlin to his feet.

"You must have been in quite some day dream."

Merlin's grin faltered.

"Something like that."

Lancelot nodded, understanding.

Merlin felt the tiniest smidgen of comfort at this small gesture. Lancelot was the only one who he could talk to about this, the only one who could hope to understand anything of the turmoil he was suffering. True, Gaius was always there, but he needed someone his own age, someone who wouldn't scold him for being careless with his magic. Someone to be his friend. And although Gaius was very dear to him, he was more of a father than a friend, and there were some things Merlin just couldn't tell him.

A couple of Knights passed by them in the corridor and cast them glances which clearly spoke of condescension, and even enmity, directed completely at Lancelot.

Lancelot nodded to them coldly, and waited until they had turned the corner before looking back at Merlin with a resigned expression.

Merlin understood.

"They'll accept you eventually you know."

Lancelot let out a humourless laugh.

"I highly doubt they ever will Merlin. I am a commoner. They do not like to have me among their ranks."

"But you were personally appointed by Arthur himself!"

"That makes no difference to them. They see only blood, not worth."

Merlin fell into silence, unwillingly acknowledging the truth of this. While Arthur had decreed that the Knighting ceremony he had conducted before the battle was valid, many did not accept his decision.

He spoke again:

"It doesn't matter what they think. Arthur believes in you Lancelot, he would not have Knighted you otherwise. As long as you stay loyal and true to him, you need not please any others. They are fools if they think noble blood makes for a noble man. And one day, they will see that."

Lancelot regarded him curiously for a few moments before smiling and casting his eyes towards his feet.

"You speak the truth Merlin. I know it, for there are many who would say a mere commoner has no wisdom or honour. But you have proven that wrong." He looked up again and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Don't ever change Merlin. You are proof to us all that nobility can be found in the most unlikeliest of places."

Merlin tried to smile, but found he could not do so without feeling artificial. He did not feel wise, honourable or noble. If anything he was ashamed of what had happened. He did not deserve such praise, not from anyone.

He forced a grin on his face.

"Stop it, you're making me blush."

Lancelot laughed and Merlin found himself joining in. Then Lancelot stopped abruptly, his eyes locked on something behind Merlin. His eyes lingered for a moment, before returning to Merlin.

"I must go." He said swiftly, and hurried off in the direction he had come in.

Merlin was bewildered, and turned to look behind him, and saw Gwen coming down the corridor, dressed in a shimmering pink gown.

She approached him, and smiled kindly, before her eyes found the scattered armour on the floor.

Merlin looked down.

"I dropped it."

Gwen smiled.

"I can see that."

She stood looking at him for a moment.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch it?"

"Oh."

He bent down and gathered it all up in his arms once again, with difficulty.

Gwen hesitated for the briefest of moments.

"Who were you talking to?"

Merlin invented wildly.

"No one. I-I mean, I was...talking to myself. Yeah, myself. Just reminding myself of the things I have left to do."

Merlin grinned hopefully. Gwen did not look convinced, but didn't pursue it. Merlin wasn't entirely sure why he was lying to her. But Lancelot's hurried exit and his desire to avoid Gwen's presence had to be important. Merlin knew of how Lancelot had once cared for Gwen; he supposed avoiding her was the only way of limiting his pain.

Gwen didn't say anything more on the subject however.

"All that armour looks heavy. Let me help you."

"No, no, it's all right. It's not too bad," Merlin lied, trying to shift the armour into a more comfortable position. "Besides, you shouldn't be doing servant's work any more, you're a _Lady._"

Gwen blushed and looked uncomfortable, fingering the hem of her sleeve.

"No, I'm not Merlin. I'm just a commoner who happens to be the sister of a Knight."

Merlin shrugged.

"It makes you a Lady in my books."

Gwen fidgeted uncomfortably again.

"I'm not sure I want to be a Lady. It's driving me mad, sitting around the castle all day doing nothing. I'm not like the other Ladies of Court. I don't enjoy sitting down and discussing dresses and the latest styles. I'd much rather be doing something useful."

Merlin grinned mischievously.

"You mean like scrubbing out a fireplace?"

Gwen laughed.

"Oh, no, _that_ part I won't miss. It's the sense of purpose that I miss. I despise feeling useless."

Merlin's expression softened.

"You're not useless Gwen. Just you wait till Arthur plucks up the courage to marry you. You'll have no spare time on your hands what with reigning in Arthur and his big head."

Gwen laughed again, her face aglow as she thought of Arthur. She looked down at Merlin's overly burdened arms.

"Please let me help you Merlin, I have nothing to do."

Merlin hesitated, then nodded. He wouldn't mind a little company. It took his mind off his own conflicted feelings.

Gwen relieved him of some of the weight, and together they made for Arthur's chambers. They walked in silence, side-by-side. The castle was eerily quiet. Merlin wondered briefly where Arthur was; in another 'meeting' with the Council? They were pointless, Arthur made all the decisions, all they needed was Uther's signature. Arthur didn't think he was ready to be king, but Merlin knew he was. He just had to discover that for himself.

The door to Arthur's chambers loomed closer, and Gwen, with the lighter weight, darted ahead and opened the doors. They made their way inside, and dumped the armour on the table inside. Merlin massaged his arms, knowing bruises would soon appear there, what with his falling on the armour twice within five minutes.

Gwen ran her hands over the burnished metal, her gaze distant and though thinking of a distant memory.

"Do you remember Merlin, when you first became Arthur's servant? You didn't have a clue about armour, I had to teach you."

Merlin grinned.

"Yeah, I felt pretty stupid at the time. I would've been lost without you back then Gwen."

Gwen said nothing, just continued to look at the armour, almost with a melancholy gaze.

"Sometimes I wish we were back then. Things were so much simpler."

Merlin watched her, and saw the sadness etched on her face. Despite the fact he himself wasn't feeling particularly cheerful, he knew he had to do something to remove that uncharacteristic expression from her features.

"You mean, things were so much more boring back then." Merlin said with a wry smile. "Things change Gwen, we need to be able to use that to our advantage."

Gwen nodded, and a small smile crept onto her face.

"Things weren't always that boring. Before you and Arthur became close, you seemed to always end up in the stocks."

Merlin grimaced.

"I _still _end up in the stocks. So that was entertainment for you?"

Gwen laughed.

"Of course, what else was there to amuse us?"

Merlin shook his head in mock offence.

Gwen pushed aside the armour she had been toying with.

"I should go, I said I would meet Elyan. He and Gwaine are having some big argument over a horse race. They've asked me to settle it. I have a nasty feeling it will be settled in a game of 'Who can drink the most without passing out'."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Trust those two to be concerned with a horse race when all of this is going on."

"We all need something to distract ourselves Merlin," Gwen said with a knowing look.

And with that, she slipped out of the room. Merlin stood stock-still for a few moments, listening to her footsteps echo down the corridor.

She was right, he decided. There was no point in brooding over what had happened, he had to move forward with life. He would only continue to torture himself, drive himself mad if he didn't. He wouldn't give in to self-doubt.

He picked up a piece of armour, and moved towards the cupboard in the corner to find cleaning supplies, when a sudden magical force hit him, resounding through his head, blocking out all of his senses, shooting through every part of his body.

He fell to his knees, his eyes watering, his ears ringing and heart thumping, breathing deeply trying to recover.

He closed his eyes, and tried to steady his breathing and his trembling hands. He had never felt anything as strong as that before.

He forced his eyes open and looked around, expecting to see some hostile sorcerer, perhaps Morgana or Morgause standing in front of him but saw no one else in the room. And judging by the lack of screams from outside, it had only been he who felt it.

He was immediately on alert, and stood up slowly, looking around him for danger.

It was then he saw it. A giant symbol burned into the floor, glowing with magic, smoke streaming from it. It looked rather similar to the symbol the Druids used, only it seemed to radiate evil and animosity.

Merlin found himself staring at it, captivated by its power. The immense power.

Someone had sent it here. Someone was trying to send a message.

Merlin had no doubt as to who it was for.

**A/N: Okaay, so how was the start? I've got loads of ideas for this fic, mainly all angst-y, so characters will not be happy for some portions of this, though it won't be all doom and gloom!**

**I'm worried that as I continue writing this it may get kind of depressing so please tell me what you think of this and whether I should continue!**

**Love for life if you review! :D  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Big thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/alerted and even favourited the last chapter- I wasn't expecting such a positive response! :D Also thanks to those of you who pointed out the entire last chapter was in bold text...oops. My computer hates me :( Hopefully this one will okay! Hope you enjoy! :D**

** Symbols**

Arthur's blood pounded in his ears as he strode purposefully through the corridors of the castle. His head was reeling and his heart gave erratic leaps every so often. He breathed in deeply trying to give some illusion of composure, but he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. The strain was showing.

He had just emerged from a meeting with his father, if a meeting it could be called. He had just sat there as usual, not contributing, not taking any active part of any discussions, just staring. His father's advisers had sat around him, their brows furrowed, looking from Arthur to his father with a poor attempt at concealing their frustration. Arthur knew what they wanted.

They wanted him to take charge, to usurp his father and become king, and Arthur couldn't deny he often thought about it. As little as he wanted to betray his father in that way, he had to think of the good of the kingdom. He couldn't sit back and watch. Someone had to make the decisions his father could not, what use was a king who could not lead?

But something held him back, what, he was not sure. Perhaps it was the daunting prospect of having the weight of the kingdom finally on his shoulders. It was something he had been training for his entire life, since before he could remember, but now that the time was now here, he didn't think he was ready. He had always thought he would have plenty of time to prepare, but this had come so suddenly he was now unsure of himself. He drew back from what he knew he had to do. He was able to lead his Knights into battle, command their loyalty and respect, confident in his own abilities, so why was he so hesitant now?

He knew, he was only trying to delay the moment when he would take charge, flailing around in the uncertainty, desperately trying to find some other way. Like a coward. He prayed and prayed his father would recover, selfishly, he wished more than anything he would have this burden removed from him.

But with his father's health steadily declining, Arthur had begun to lie awake at night, planning what would happen after his father's eventual death.

The pain was sharp and piercing as he thought about it, but sometimes, he just wished his father had been killed outright during the fighting. Anything was better than watching his father waste away like this. Perhaps the shock of losing his father would have been what he needed to take on his role as leader. But this lingering...it just allowed tendrils of self-doubt to creep in.

He felt so conflicted...

His Knights had been the first to offer him their support, and he was grateful for this beyond words. He just wished he had their confidence. But he was reassured in knowing they would follow him to any end. He just hoped it was the right one.

What if he failed in leading them? What if he couldn't live up to his father's reign? What if he made the wrong decisions?

So many people had so many expectations of him, so many believed in him, what if he let them down?

Arthur shook his head, trying to clear his head of these thoughts. He knew he had to do something, there was no point in continually avoiding the inevitable moment that approached. The people of Camelot needed a leader. And that leader needed to be him.

Merlin had said as much after the battle, that he may need to take charge and become king. Why did that fool always have so much faith in him?

Still, he was grateful for Merlin's words, he would never admit this to him, but Merlin's infrequent attempts to cheer him up usually worked. He always seemed to know how to say the right thing, and Arthur was increasingly surprised as time went on, how well Merlin really knew him. It was times like that Merlin actually showed some times of wisdom. The rest of the time of course he was a complete idiot.

Something had changed between them since the battle. Their relationship as servant and master was less profound than it had been, he was almost like a friend to him now. Merlin however still insisted on running around after him as he had always done, perhaps knowing how much Arthur had on his mind, and how much needed to be done to restore the city after the destruction his sister's reign of terror had caused.

His sister. Even the word seemed abhorrent to him.

He had tried not to think of Morgana and her betrayal, it only caused him pain and confusion. He wouldn't go back to the wreck he had been in that cave after Morgana's revelation. A hopeless state of being. He had to be strong.

He kept repeating this to himself again and again trying to convince himself of it, to try and make himself believe it.

A king shouldn't have doubts. And before long, a king he would become.

He approached his chambers and pushed open the doors, to find Merlin and his hands and knees, scrubbing furiously at the floor with a frantic look upon his face.

As soon as he walked in Merlin jerked around to face him, looking remarkably like a startled rabbit, with wide eyes popping out of his face.

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"What are you doing Merlin?" He asked suspiciously.

Merlin's eyes went wider if that was possible and he glanced down at the floor quickly and bit his lip.

"N-nothing, sire." He stammered.

Arthur knew immediately something was wrong; Merlin _never_ called him 'sire'.

"Really? Because it looks to me as though you're scrubbing the floor," he said, trying to catch him out.

Merlin coloured and began stammering again.

"Uh, y-yeah, I'm just scrubbing. You know, like I always do. Just scrubbing. Nothing unusual going on here."

He gave a ridiculous grin which didn't fool Arthur in the slightest. Still, he didn't pursue it, Merlin was always making some pathetic attempt to cover up his mistakes. He'd just learned to let him get on with it. Besides, he knew better than to try and weasel anything out of Merlin, he was a mystery, and made no attempt to hide it. That was one of the strange things about Merlin, he was never afraid to make his opinion known, but had to easily be the most secretive person Arthur had ever met.

Merlin resumed his scrubbing and Arthur turned to his desk where a plethora of official documents awaited him, each more boring than the last. He resigned himself to reading them all, and sat down heavily, and pulled the first towards him.

Merlin eventually finished his scrubbing, and stood up and surveyed the floor in front of him, critically. Arthur's suspicion was again renewed.

"Aren't you going to clean the rest of the floor?"

Merlin spun around, and looked flushed.

"Uh, no."

"Why not? What's so special about _that_ part of the floor?"

"Nothing!" Merlin exclaimed, stepping to the side, trying to conceal the freshly washed floor.

Arthur stood.

"I'm not stupid Merlin, something's going on here and I'm going to find out exactly-" he stopped, and sniffed the air. "Is something _burning?_"

"No!" Yelped Merlin, his eyes wide again.

But Arthur could definitely detect the faint smell of smoke in the air.

"_Mer_lin, what, _exactly_, have you been doing?"

Merlin just shook his head, and make a feeble attempt at a laugh.

"Nothing! Just going about my daily business!"

He turned around and moved towards the table where a pile of armour lay and began to sort through it.

Arthur shook his head bewildered; when was that boy going to _learn_?

He didn't let it bother him however, there were more important things at hand, and whatever foolish thing Merlin had been up to wasn't worth the hassle.

He returned to the documents again, and tried to concentrate, but to no avail. He pushed them to the side, he would attend to them later, and just sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. When would this weight be removed from his shoulders? Would it ever? Was this part of being king? Arthur wished more than ever he could just talk to his father about this, why had he never took more of an interest before?

He was brought back to reality by Merlin, who had dropped a large piece of armour on the floor with a loud clanging noise.

"That's the third time today!" Merlin cursed in exasperation.

Arthur watched him curiously, there was something different in Merlin's demeanour, he looked nervous and shaken, something he had definitely not looked earlier.

"Merlin what on earth is wrong with you today?" Arthur asked out of genuine concern, it wasn't like Merlin to be like this; he was always the annoyingly optimistic one.

Merlin avoided his eyes.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

But Arthur knew he was definitely trying to dart around the subject.

"Come on Merlin. You're a clumsy idiot by nature, but I can tell there's something up this time, tell me."

Merlin still avoided looking at him, and didn't answer. Arthur began to grow impatient.

"Merlin, either tell me what is wrong, or I'll personally make sure you clean out the entire royal stables every day for a month, _single-handedly."_

Merlin finally looked at him and sighed.

"I- I just don't feel right."

Arthur frowned.

"You mean you're ill?

"Something like that."

Arthur looked at him appraisingly, something did seem off about him.

"Then you should go to Gaius."

"But I've still got so much work to do-"

"Then you'll have double the work tomorrow," Arthur said trying to be cheerful. "Go Merlin, I can't have you hanging around here like this, you're ruining the scenery. Go."

Merlin hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and placed the armour down on the table and turned to go.

"Thank you, I'll be in early tomorrow sire."

"There's no need, just make sure you're well first. An illness is the last thing I need at the moment."

Arthur was unnerved, Merlin seemed even more closed off than usual. He needed to know what was troubling him.

But Merlin chose not to share, and instead, headed out through the still-open door. Arthur considered for a brief moment going after him and forcing him to tell, but he was held back. Merlin obviously didn't need him forcing himself into his private affairs. Besides, he was going to Gaius, first stop for medical and personal advice. If Merlin needed anyone to talk to, it was Gaius.

Arthur sighed, and tried to push Merlin out of his mind. Everyone now seemed to be acting strangely, ever since Morgana. But Arthur had thought Merlin had managed to escape it, he hadn't shown any sign of being affected whatsoever. Maybe, it had just caught up with him at last.

The many scrolls and parchments lying on his desk, pushed themselves into his line of vision, reminding him of what he should be doing, and Arthur resigned himself to a boring couple of hours.

He sat down, and again pulled one of them to him, and forced himself to read. This was his responsibility, and he had to face up to it. The future was uncertain, and Arthur had to pull himself out of his self pity and become the leader he knew he should be.

* * *

Merlin walked quickly, his feet picking out the familiar path to Gaius' chambers without thinking. He was too wrapped up in what had just happened.

That symbol, it was evil, he could tell that. It had exuded hatred and animosity, and it frightened him. Why would someone send him that? Who would?

Two prominent suspects came floating into his mind, but he pushed that aside. Morgause was dead for all he knew, and Morgana was not powerful enough to send something of that magnitude. It was not merely a symbol burned into the floor, it was a magical energy point, something which would be drawn into the floor for a particularly powerful spell.

It filled him with fear, as though some evil spirit had been summoned alongside it and was now floating around his body. It coursed through every inch of him, as though he had been invaded, mind, body and soul. He found dark thoughts and fears rising in his mind. It was as though some dark monster was eating away as his very being.

What did it mean? Why was it here?

Aside from Morgause and Morgana he wasn't sure who would want to do something like that. He didn't have any other enemies, as far as he knew. But then he remembered the Druid boy Mordred. He was certainly powerful enough to send it, but why? Was it supposed to scare him, or was it trying to tell him something? Was it a warning?

Or was he being completely self-obsessed, and it wasn't actually for him? It could have been sent as a warning to Arthur, he had plenty of enemies, it could have been any one of them. Was it something containing some Dark Magic, that would incinerate any one who stepped on it? Had it just been a coincidence it had appeared in the room when Merlin was there?

He couldn't make any sense of it, but he knew who could help.

The journey to Gaius' seemed longer than usual, as though this dark menace unleashed in his soul was somehow dragging him back. He felt contaminated somehow, as though this darkness was radiating off of him, marking him.

He had almost expected Arthur to see it when he came through the door, as though something had changed about him. But Arthur had definitely noticed something. Typical, he thought, Arthur was usually blissfully unaware of everything that happened, but when something serious actually did happen, he had to suddenly become annoying perceptive.

Thank the gods he'd managed to clear away the symbol before Arthur had arrived; _that_ would have made for a difficult situation to explain away. He had spent _ages_ scrubbing the floor, wearing out two different scrub brushes trying to get rid of it, as well as employing every cleaning spell he could think of. At first it had seemed impossible, the symbol had been firmly burned into the solid stones and refused to budge. Merlin had had to practically remove the entire top layer of stone using magic to get rid of it. He hoped Arthur wouldn't look too closely at the floor, the symbol was still barely visible, and Merlin hadn't wanted to risk using magic with Arthur in the room to try and remove it completely. He also hoped Arthur wouldn't try walking in that particular part of the room for a while-due to Merlin's ruthless scrubbing and shearing of rock, the floor now had a slight dip to it, which Arthur would surely notice.

Typical bloody sorcerers, had to make everything difficult.

He eventually made it through the door to find Gaius bent over some experiment or other. He straightened and regarded Merlin critically.

"You look awful Merlin."

"Thanks." Merlin collapsed into a chair. He suddenly felt very weak.

Gaius approached him and began examining him, peering into his eyes, feeling his pulse and testing for a fever. Merlin said nothing, and let him. His mind was still teeming with questions, but he felt too tired to ask any of them.

Gaius lifted Merlin's face to look at his own, and Merlin saw the worry in it.

"I can't find anything physically wrong with you Merlin, your pulse is a little fast and you're even paler than usual, but other than that you seem perfectly fine."

Merlin sighed.

"I know, I'm just a bit shaken I think."

Gaius pulled up a stool and sat close to him.

"What happened?"

Merlin's eyes flicked to the door to make sure it was closed before answering.

"I think I just had an encounter with Dark Magic."

Gaius immediately straightened up and looked attentive.

"Are you sure?"

Merlin nodded.

"I've never felt anything like that; it was evil. It hit me like some great force, and I feel as though- as though it's inside me, as though it's eating at me from the inside."

Gaius nodded sombrely.

"Yes, Dark Magic often does that. Any form of magic can be used for Dark purposes, but there is a branch of magic which is particularly Dark. It perpetrates from the most dark spirits and forces of this earth, it is solely evil, it cannot be used for good. None but the most powerful can use it, but it comes at a price, such magic is not natural. It is cursed, and any mortal that seeks to toy with it is in severe danger. Dark Magic lurks in the mind, it destroys, it poisons all good thoughts, only the strongest of heart can resist it. It consumes them."

Gaius looked most seriously at Merlin, who nodded.

"That's exactly what it's like, as though it's bringing every dark and unpleasant thought to my mind. I can't escape it."

"Few can. Those who choose to use such magic take a great risk, unless they can resist the allure of the darkness, they are completely overwhelmed and find themselves enslaved to their own dark thoughts. This can drive them to insanity, or only encourage their ambition for power. Sometimes it does both."

Merlin took a shuddering breath.

"Will I be okay?"

Gaius thought for a moment.

"I believe so, if you did not conjure the magic yourself. Usually just an encounter with it, sensing it's presence can affect someone like it has with you. It shouldn't do any permanent damage."

Merlin sighed in relief, for a moment he had thought he had been going mad. Still, it worried him. Why on earth would someone send him something so dark?

Gaius seemed to be wondering the same thing.

"Tell me, how exactly did this encounter take place?"

Merlin opened his mouth to tell him, but something held him back as he looked at Gaius. Why he didn't tell him he didn't know. The darkness within urged him not to. He found himself listening to it.

He shook his head.

"No, it doesn't matter."

"If you've come into contact with Dark Magic Merlin, it is hardly nothing!" Gaius raised his voice slightly. "If someone uses such magic against Camelot do you have any idea how dangerous that would be?"

But Merlin felt annoyed at him.

"It's fine Gaius, it doesn't mean anything!" Merlin was shocked at how forceful his voice was. He felt anger rise inside him for the little old man, and felt horror at the realisation of this. What was wrong with him?

He staggered backwards, appalled at himself, what the dark thoughts in his head were saying to him. He had to leave, before he shouted even more at Gaius, he needed to go some place to regain his normal sense of control. He couldn't trust himself.

Gaius frowned at him, looking concerned.

"Merlin are you all right?"

Merlin snapped, immediately forgetting his resolution to not allow the darkness to take control.

"I'm fine! Just leave me alone will you! Why do you always have to be so interfering?" His anger rose, the darkness pushing him onwards.

Gaius looked slightly shocked and hurt at his words, and Merlin felt the anger subside and again the horror rose within.

He had to leave. He turned on his heel and headed towards his room, he needed to lie down and get rid of this before he did any more damage. However Gaius took this as a sign of anger.

"Very well, be like that! But please, while we're on the subject of magic would you _please _in future remember that whenever you want to cast a spell you _must_ clear away the floor symbols. Someone might see it! And then where would we be?"

Merlin stopped frozen, fear flooding through his entire body.

He turned to look at Gaius, who looked confused at his reaction.

"What floor symbols?" Merlin asked, dreading the answer.

Gaius frowned.

"The ones over there in the corner. I'd assumed you were casting a spell and had left them there."

Merlin felt his breathing quicken and he slowly walked over to the corner Gaius had gestured to.

On the flagstones, there was not one, but _three _symbols, identical to the one in Arthur's chambers. These ones weren't glowing, nor smoking, but they still gave off that stench of evil. The hairs went up on the back of Merlin's neck, and he felt a shiver down his spine. They were here too? _Why?_

Gaius came up behind him, and looked at them with him.

"You didn't draw them did you?"

Merlin shook his head. The symbols still seemed to be pulsating with that energy, the one that had provoked him to be so short with Gaius.

"Can't you feel that?" Merlin whispered, his eyes still fixated on the symbols. He didn't see how anyone _couldn't._

"No," Gaius said softly. "I don't feel anything."

Merlin stepped backwards, shaking his head. What was happening?

The symbols seemed to draw him closer, tempting him somehow, alluring him...

No, he needed to get away from them.

He pulled himself away and practically run up the steps to his bedroom.

"Merlin, wait!" Gaius called after him.

Merlin ignored him and shoved open the door, only to stop dead at the sight before him.

The entire room looked as though a tempest had hit it, clothing and belongings were strewn everywhere. The cupboard was ransacked, its contents emptied and tossed aside. The bed was ripped and the straw stuffing was all over the floor, great slash marks in the mattress and the furniture.

But it was not the mess that caught his attention. It was the symbols.

They were everywhere, on the floor, the walls, the window, the bedsheets. But these ones were not burned into the ground, great dark marks etched into surface like the previous ones.

These were scarlet.

These were in blood.

Gaius had come up behind him and let out an exclamation at the sight of the room.

Merlin said nothing. These ones weren't emanating magical energy like the others, there was no need. The blood in itself spoke of evil.

Gaius looked dumbfounded.

"But how is this possible? I haven't left the rooms for more than a few minutes at a time, there's no way someone would have had the _time."_

Merlin turned to look at him.

"They would if they were using Dark Magic."

Gaius looked at him questioningly.

"One of these symbols appeared in Arthur's chambers. It just appeared out of nowhere. I felt the force of it hit me, it was evil."

Gaius opened his mouth to ask more, but an urgent knock on the door stopped him.

Gwaine burst into the room, looking agitated, unusually for him.

"Gaius, Merlin, I think you should come."

Gaius and Merlin exchanged worried glances.

"What's happened?" Gaius asked him.

Gwaine looked grave for a moment.

"We've had news from the border. A village was almost completely massacred by a group of sorcerers." He paused for a moment. "They were led by Morgana."

* * *

The next few moments passed in a blur for Merlin. He and Gaius had immediately followed Gwaine out of the open door and to the king's throne room, where the Royal Court had been gathered.

Uther sat on his throne, and something had shifted within him. He still looked defeated and weak sitting there, but there was something in his eyes, a resolve that had not been there before.

Everyone looked tense, whispers echoed throughout the room, hissing like a hoard of angry snakes. There was not a person at ease within the room.

Arthur strode through the door, having been summoned by some of his Knights, who followed behind him. He reached his father's throne, bowed slightly, and turned to face the people.

His face was expressionless, a mask of control, but Merlin saw the pain in his stance. Arthur had changed as well, there was a new confidence in his demeanour, something he had been lacking since he had effectively taken control of the kingdom.

The doors were then closed, as the last stragglers hurried in, and the gathered people fell into silence.

Uther spoke, his voice echoing out, weak and hoarse.

"Bring forth the witness."

A young boy was ushered out of the shadows, trembling with fear. He was obviously a peasant, dressed in ragged clothes, his hands and face smeared with dirt, streaked with tear tracks, and his bare feet were muddy and bloody.

His entire body shook as he stood before the king.

Uther bent down a little and looked at him. He spoke tonelessly.

"Tell us what happened."

The boy gulped and whimpered.

"I-I was down by the river, washing the crockery, when I heard it. There was s-screaming and crying. I ran back to the village and they were there." His eyes went wide and watery, and his voice broke. "They were sorcerers, they were destroying the houses, burning them down. They didn't leave anything alone. They-they were hurting people. They were killing them. I saw...saw blood. I heard the screaming, begging for mercy. They didn't stop."

The boy halted in his narrative, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"They're all dead. My family, they're all dead!"

Great heaving sobs racked his body and he gasped for breath.

Merlin felt a great upsurge of pity for the boy, looking so helpless standing by himself in the hall, but he felt anger too. It roared through his veins, it took all of his energy not to let it escape from him. It clouded all else, his hands were shaking from the sheer wrath of it. The darkness revelled in it.

Arthur's face was thunderous, his expression hardened as he looked down at the boy.

Uther still showed no emotion.

"And tell me, who was leading these sorcerers?"

The boy controlled his sobbing, and looked up at the king.

"I saw her, clear as the day. She was in front. She didn't use any magic, but she was the one giving the orders. She was laughing."

"Who?" Uther pressed.

"I saw her last year, when my uncle brought me to Camelot when he was taking his produce to the market. It was the Lady Morgana."

An upsurge of whispers greeted this statement and shouts of anger rang out over the heads of the people.

Uther sat back in his throne, a momentary look of pain flashing in his eyes as he heard the confirmation of his daughter's acts.

A frenzy of chatter ensued, people turning to their neighbours with shocked expressions.

Merlin whispered to Gaius in an undertone.

"This has to be related hasn't it? The symbols, Morgana's reappearance...it has to be connected."

Gaius cast him a sidelong glance.

"I hope for your sake it isn't."

"Enough!" Uther called, his voice stronger. A fighting spirit gleamed in his eyes, and he sat upright, taking back some of the power he had lost in the last few weeks.

He stared around at them all.

"We cannot tolerate this obscene use of magic within our borders. The perpetrators will be hunted down. The ones responsible _will _ be punished. Those who use magic will learn that Camelot is not somewhere that will lie down and be defeated. We will rise to meet this new threat!"

It was the first time Uther had made any sort of grand statement in weeks, and the people were hooked on his every word.

"First of all, we must-"

But the rest of Uther's words were drowned out by a rush of wind which entered the room as a torrent, shattering the glass in the windows and throwing many people to the ground. Howling voices, cries, were carried on the wind, tortured pleas and screams, turning Merlin's heart cold.

A green light glowed in the centre of the room, a great blinding light, more intense than any other form of light.

Something fell into this light, something heavy Merlin could not see. A sense of foreboding crept into him.

The wind died down, the light faded, and everyone could finally see what it was.

Several gasps of horror erupted in the room. The young boy screamed in absolute terror and ran to a corner.

It was a corpse of a naked man, a mutilated body, freshly killed, blood still seeping from the wound on its neck.

But every single inch of the man's body was covered in curious marks. Merlin crept closer, to see what they were.

They were the same symbol that had been haunting him all day, carved into this man's flesh. The only part of his body not mutilated by these symbols was a large area on his chest, where a single word was carved in an elegant script, blood shining out an angry red against the man's pale skin.

Emrys.

**A/N: Dun dun dun... let me know what you think! I've been on a bit of a Merlin streak at the mo, just trying to while away the time before the fourth series! I'm even considering calling my new kitten Merlin! Or Uther, not because he's a particularly nice guy, but because there's something oddly satisfying about saying "Uther! Stop peeing on the carpet!" Anyways, half my family are named after fictional characters; my name's from Doctor Who, my sister's is from Lord of the Rings, and the dog's from Wacky Races- why break with tradition?**

**Again, love ya if you leave a review!  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey again Merlin fans! Thanks to everyone who's reading and reviewing! Love you guys! :) Bit of a long chapter here, I had sooo much to try and fit in here, hope it's not too long-winded!**

**Hope you enjoy! :D  
**

* * *

Chapter 3- Confusion

Merlin barely remembered anything of what had happened after the appearance of the dead body in the centre of the throne room, only that chaos and confusion had prevailed. His eyes were drawn unwillingly again and again to the word on his chest: 'Emrys'.

He felt sickened, disgusted at the horrific crime that had been committed here, the blood seeping out of the man's body spread around him in a pool, running through the cracks in the floor. The man was evidently just dead, and it made Merlin wonder with a sense of sick fascination if the man had still been alive when these marks had been carved into him.

It appalled him, it disgusted him, yet...

The more and more he looked at the symbols on the body, the more he found himself compelled by it somehow, as though the symbols were drawing him in, consuming him. Then the name, his name, carved so elegantly into flesh, burning brightly scarlet...It called on him, called to him as though someone from a distance was shouting his name. 'Emrys, Emrys...'

A monster awoke inside of him, something that relished in the sight of the blood. He fought to control it, but it beckoned him further, tempting him somehow...

He drew back in horror and clutched at Gaius, who stood beside him in shock.

"Help me Gaius, it's doing something to me, the magic's calling me."

Gaius looked to him in alarm.

"You must control it Merlin. Don't let the darkness overwhelm you!"

Merlin closed his eyes, in a futile attempt to rid himself of the sight. It burned behind his eyelids, searing into his eyeballs, a tattoo on his mind. It refused to leave.

He forced himself to relax, to forget about everything that was happening. He focused solely on his breathing, in and out, in and out. It began to work, the vision faded, the darkness retreated. Soon all he could feel was horror and contempt, not the thrill he had before.

He slowly opened his eyes, and found to his relief that one of the Knights had covered the body with a cloak, but still the blood seeped out from under it, spreading out over the cold floor.

Merlin felt as though he was going to be sick, he felt the bile collecting in his throat but forced it back. Why would someone do this?

He knew. It was because of him. These symbols all over the place, this man, his name carved into his chest, it was all because of him. It was for Emrys...Merlin.

Merlin's anger rose up, an innocent man had died because someone had wanted to tell him something, this was all happening because of him...

Merlin was barely aware of Uther calling everyone's attention and asking them to leave the room, and the Knights and advisers to congregate in the smaller Council Chambers. Gaius led him firmly by the arm out of the door, Merlin continually looking back over his shoulder at the body still laying there in the hall. A few Knights approached the body and began to remove it, but Merlin did not see it again before he was out of sight around the corner. He didn't know if he was happy or glad he had not caught another glimspe of it.

He passed the young boy in the corridor, his eyes wide in shock, squealing in terror and sobbing hysterically. Gwen knelt on the floor beside him, her arms around him trying to comfort him. She shot him a meaningful look as he passed, which clearly bespoke of her own fear. Merlin knew how she felt.

The urge to return back to the throne room and to the body was almost overwhelming him. Why did he feel such a need to return? What was this magic doing to him? Was he always going to find pleasure now in death and destruction? Was he turning evil?

The Council Chambers were packed by the time Gaius and Merlin entered, everyone was conversing animatedly, fear on their faces.

Arthur stood at the head of the room and called for silence. He got it immediately.

His face was pale and strain was showing on it, but his voice was strong.

"Please, do not fear. We must not allow this to make us weak, we must remain calm!"

One of the Knights with a sour expression spoke up.

"With all due respect sire, a dead body was just dropped into our midst covered in heretical symbols and you expect us to remain calm?"

Shouts of encouragement met these words and people's voices rose in panic.

"Really? Because as a Knight I would have thought you'd be used to seeing less than pleasant things in life, or are you one of the pampered ones who faint at the sight of their own toenail clippings?" Gwaine's voice rose above the rest, addressing the Knight who had spoken first.

The Knight scowled.

"This is magic of the darkest kind, of course we have reason to fear."

"But there is no reason for us to lose our heads!" Lancelot retorted. "Creating fear and panic is exactly what they want, they want to divide us. And if we are to remain strong we must all calm down and listen to Arthur!"

The Knight sneered in derision.

"And what would a mere commoner know of matters like this?""

Lancelot's eyes flashed dangerously, and looked ready to speak once more but Arthur interrupted.

"None of us know much about matters such as this Sir Aldred," he said firmly. "Lancelot is right; we must not allow this to panic us. We must investigate further before we have any cause for alarm."

The gathered people did not look convinced, but Arthur stared them all down, daring any of them to question him.

Uther spoke, his voice once again weak.

"Gaius, those symbols- they are signs of the Old Religion are they not?"

Gaius stepped forward.

"Yes, sire, they are."

"And what do they mean?"

Gaius drew in a breath.

"They have many meanings my lord. All magic users use them, for different purposes. It is often difficult to know what that particular use is." His gaze hardened. "However, we can be sure this time the symbol was in use for its darkest purpose. The use of these symbols in blood is synonymous with only one thing- Dark Magic."

Whispers broke out throughout the hall, like wind rustling through leaves in the trees. Everyone looked uneasy and aprehensive.

Uther's face took on an expression of resignation and defeat. He closed his eyes and sat back in his chair.

Arthur took charge.

"Dark Magic? How is it any different from normal magic?"

Gaius hesitated.

"I do not know for sure my lord. Very few practise it, many stories have been told of those who were driven mad by the mere sight of it." Here his eyes flicked to Merlin, who stiffened. "Little is known about it; only that it is evil, and supremely powerful."

Arthur bowed his head and his face darkened.

"And why would such a thing appear in our midst? Is it a warning perhaps?"

"I would guess so my lord. Or a threat."

Whispers grew again, more panicked this time. The fear of Dark Magic was embedded deeply within them. Merlin could didn't have to guess why.

Uther sat forwards again, and lifted his head.

"Are you saying Gaius that this is an omen? That a Dark sorcerer is plotting against the kingdom?"

Gaius nodded gravely.

"It appears so sire."

Uther sighed and ran his hand over his face. When he spoke again his voice was barely audible.

"Could...could Morgana be behind this?"

Silence fell immediately. Arthur's head snapped around to his father, and then to Gaius, his face eager for an answer.

Gaius sighed.

"I doubt it sire. This man has only just been killed. The tattoo he bore on his right arm was that of the Castel people in Mercia who live in the border regions, the opposite side of the kingdom from where Morgana was known to be this morning when the boy's village was attacked."

Uther's expression changed into something Merlin could not decipher, was it relief, sadness, anger?

Merlin couldn't remember seeing a tattoo on the man's arm, then again he had been wholly preoccupied. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or saddened that Morgana was not likely behind it. Relieved because he hated thinking of the evil she had become, scared because it meant he had some other powerful enemies out there.

Arthur frowned.

"Don't sorcerers have some way of transporting themselves through magic? Perhaps she was able to travel there within a day?"

Gaius said nothing.

Sir Leon who had remained rather quiet stepped forward.

"Why would she? Unless she is trying to frighten us by attacking at random?"

"Either that or we have to consider the possibility her forces are split into two." Lancelot said.

"Or perhaps even there is more than one group of sorcerers who have a grudge against Camelot." Gwaine's words echoed into silence, falling heavily into their hearts, as people considered this possibility.

Arthur shook his head.

"We cannot jump to conclusions. These two events must be linked somehow. We cannot make any decisions until we know the full extent of the matter."

"Then what do you suggest we do, _sire_?" Sir Aldred spoke derisively.

Merlin felt a sudden leap of anger at his words; how dare he treat Arthur with such disrespect! Couldn't he see how much strain Arthur was under as it was? The rage coursed through him, powerful and dangerous until he could barely control it. He didn't know why it affected him so, but this seething rage was something he had never experienced before. Why was he suddenly so angry? Why did he want to attack Sir Aldred right here, in front of all these witnesses, not caring who saw him use his magic?

He was pulled out of these thoughts just in time, as Arthur spoke, looking at Sir Aldred with something akin to hate.

"I _suggest_ we find out all we can before we act. There is no use in rushing into something we know nothing about. Border patrols must be increased and communication posts manned continually day and night, warning bells and signal fires maintained in case of attack. In the meantime, Gaius, I want you to find out as much as you can about these symbols, whether they mean anything in particular to us."

Gaius bowed, and people began to depart, but Elyan stopped them.

"Sire, what about that word? The one carved into the man's body?"

Merlin's heart just about stopped, he had almost forgotten he had not been the only one to see the word on the man's chest. What would they think?

Arthur looked to Gaius.

"Well? Have you ever heard the word 'Emrys' before?"

Gaius' gaze fell on Merlin for the briefest of moments before answering.

"No sire, I have not."

Arthur frowned.

"You must know something Gaius! Is it a group of sorcerers, a village, a man?"

Merlin had to stop himself from flinching.

Gaius shook his head.

"I have never heard it before."

Arthur sighed in exasperation.

The court genealogist Geoffrey of Monmouth came forward from the back where he had been lurking unseen.

"If it please you sire, I shall look through the old records kept in the library, perhaps there we may find some answers?"

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. Were the prophecies of Emrys kept in the court library? Merlin knew for sure he would find them quickly if they were; he was like Gaius, annoyingly knowledgeable. But would Uther keep Druidic prophecies at hand when the very mention of them in the city was akin to treason?

Arthur looked to him and nodded.

"That would indeed be most helpful."

Geoffrey nodded, and left the room without hesitating. Merlin watched him pass, and a feeling of hatred rose up inside of him, and he found himself wanting to strike the old man down. But the moment soon passed, and he left the room. Merlin once again felt appalled at himself, why did he have the sudden urge to harm an old man? Particularly a harmless old friend of Gaius'.

Gaius watched Merlin closely, as though understanding what was going through his mind. He looked worried; if Geoffrey discovered who Emrys was, it would bring them all one step closer to discovering his true identity. And Merlin couldn't help but see that pleading to Arthur that he never used his magic for anything but good wouldn't go down too well if his name had been seen carved into a bloody corpse.

The meeting seemed to be finished and the people began to filter out, still whispering furiously. Merlin cast a look at Arthur whose confidence seemed to be ebbing away, and worry creeping into his face. Merlin felt a sudden surge of pleasure at Arthur's hopeless expression, before it vanished leaving him more confused than ever.

That was that, he decided. He had to leave and go for a long_, long_ sleep. He had to get rid of this magic that was polluting his mind. It would drive him mad otherwise.

He walked with Gaius back to their chambers in silence, determined to lock himself up in his room and not leave until his mind had calmed down a little.

With a sudden jolt he remembered; his room was covered in symbols written in blood. _That _wouldn't exactly be the best remedy. He wondered where he could go to sleep. He thought about asking Gwen if he could stay with her for a couple of nights, until his room was thoroughly cleaned.

He smirked to himself, oh how Arthur would hate that. Although now Gwen was technically a Lady of the Court, she still kept her little house to herself in the lower town. Arthur had offered her chambers in the castle, but she had preferred to remain where she had felt at home, much to the chagrin of the other Ladys, who felt she was 'mixing with riff-raff.'

Not that Gwen minded. She was too head-strong and proud to let trivial things like that affect her. With all the commotion that had been caused when Arthur had Knighted mere commoners, she felt it would be easier if she kept to herself and caused no more trouble.

Merlin thought she deserved all that Arthur's money could buy her, but he understood her motives. It was far easier to not become embroiled in the tangled mess that was Court politics.

He felt weary beyond relief, his feet were dragging on the floor, and his mind was buzzing with what had just happened. He needed to sleep...

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned around at Gwaine's voice, to find him strolling up the corridor behind him, with his usual jaunty smile on his face, which was replaced with a look of concern as he drew closer.

"Whoa, you look like the living dead Merlin, what happened?"

Merlin gave a small laugh.

"Nothing much, just overworked."

Gwaine didn't look convinced.

"Well I'll have to speak to Arthur about that. He doesn't appreciate you enough. And after all I _do _have some influence, I am _Sir Gwaine_ you know."

Merlin laughed a genuine laugh, feeling immediately much better.

"I know, you haven't stopped going on about it."

Gwaine flashed him a grin, and fell into step beside Merlin.

"Are you sure you're okay Merlin?"

"Yes, I'm fine, or I will be." Merlin tried to reassure him.

"Well you'll have to fighting fit soon. We have a lot of work on our hands. Two groups of angry sorcerers? We won't have any sleep for months!"

Merlin's heart fell, the confused thoughts rising once more. He didn't want to talk about this.

Gwaine seemed to understand and didn't say anything.

Footsteps approached rapidly from behind them and they wheeled round to see Lancelot approaching them, out of breath.

Gwaine looked him up and down critically.

"Out for a jog?"

Lancelot ignored him and looked to Merlin.

"Merlin can I have a word?"

Gwaine answered coolly.

"Yes, you can have a word, with both of us."

Lancelot looked at him, with a slight annoyance and Merlin sighed inwardly.

Lancelot and Gwaine hadn't exactly become best of friends, which surprised Merlin slightly. Gwaine was always the first to make friends, he'd become particularly close to Elyan in the last few weeks, but he and Lancelot seemed to rub each other up the wrong way. Merlin supposed it was because they were so different; Lancelot believed in honour and loyalty above all else, whereas Gwaine, well, Gwaine just liked to live it up. Also, Merlin had found himself talking more and more to Lancelot in the past weeks, partly because of the fact Lancelot was the only one who knew his secret and who could understand what Merlin felt. He got the impression that Gwaine slightly resented the amount of time Lancelot and Merlin spent together, especially as he was excluded, due to the delicate nature of their conversation. Merlin felt slightly guilty, he didn't want to make Gwaine feel that he was ignoring him.

Gwaine stood his stance and Lancelot looked back to Merlin.

"Please Merlin. I need a word- in private."

Gwaine folded his arms.

"Why, what do you have to say to him that you can't say to me?"

Lancelot looked at Merlin pleadingly.

Merlin turned to Gwaine.

"Please Gwaine, it's all right. I'll talk to you later."

Gwaine looked at the both of them in suspicion, before nodding curtly, and striding off in the opposite direction. Merlin felt bad watching him go, he hated leaving him out of things.

Lancelot looked at Gaius, who was standing by Merlin's side watching, who also nodded and walked off, giving Merlin a slightly cautious look which Merlin took to mean 'Be careful.'

As soon as they were alone, Lancelot pulled Merlin to the side and made sure no one was passing.

"Well?" He asked urgently, his eyes searching Merlin's face.

Merlin sighed.

"There's not much else to say. Like Gaius said, it's Dark Magic, the most evil form there is. It's affecting me pretty badly."

Lancelot nodded.

"So that's why you suddenly look as though you've aged about twenty years?"

Merlin threw his hands up in exasperation.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes." Lancelot smiled, before he looked worried again. "Will you be all right?"

Merlin nodded.

"Yes, I think so. Once the magic's gone away a little."

Lancelot looked slightly more reassured.

"And this 'Emrys', do you know what that is?"

Merlin avoided his eyes.

"Not what, who."

Lancelot frowned.

"It's a person?"

"Yes."

"Are they evil?"

"No."

"Are they powerful?"

"Yes."

"How powerful?"

"Said to be the most powerful ever to live."

"Are they on our side?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain."

"Positive."

Lancelot opened his mouth to ask something more, then his eyes closed and a look of realisation came across his features.

"It's you isn't it?"

Merlin said nothing.

Lancelot glanced around him to make sure no one was near before asking his next question.

"Why would your name appear carved into a corpse Merlin? And since when did you have a different name?"

"It's what the Druids call me. There are prophecies of a man named Emrys who was said to be the most powerful warlock to ever live, and the Druids think they refer to me. As to why it appeared, I don't know."

"Could it be a warning, a message? A threat?"

"I don't know!" Merlin found himself shouting, the blood rushing through his ears, his hands shaking. Immediately upon sight of Lancelot's shocked face however, he calmed down.

"I'm sorry, it's this magic. It's- it's changing me somehow. I can't understand it."

Lancelot looked at him in sympathy.

"Then we should get you home, to rest."

Merlin shook his head.

"I can't go back. The magic is back there too. I have to get away for a while."

"Where?"

"I was thinking of asking Gwen..."

Lancelot's whole demeanour changed, and he looked slightly uncomfortable. But he nodded to himself and said:

"I'll take you there."

Merlin watched him closely.

"You don't have to you know, if you'd rather stay away from her."

Lancelot shook his head, and grabbed Merlin under the arm and began supporting him through the corridors.

"I cannot avoid her forever."

They walked in silence for a while, before Merlin spoke.

"You still love her don't you?"

Lancelot didn't answer, but the look of pain that flashed in his eyes confirmed it.

"You don't have to worry, I won't tell anyone. Oddly enough I'm rather good at keeping secrets."

Lancelot smiled wryly.

"You do not need to worry about me Merlin. I'm old enough now to deal with my own problems. I respect Arthur almost more than any other man I have ever met, and I would do nothing to damage his happiness, and I will not cause Gwen any unnecessary pain. I cannot hide away from her like a coward, I must face up to it, and be strong. I must have the courage to accept what is and what I cannot change."

Merlin felt pity for him, but said nothing else. Lancelot deserved happiness and good fortune in life, it was cruel he was denied that, cruel that fate meant the woman he loved was destined for someone else. Merlin couldn't imagine the pain.

He felt unbelievably tired, as though he were about to collapse completely at any moment. He was exhausted from fighting this darkness within him. He just wanted to sleep...

* * *

Arthur paced his room in an agitated manner early the next morning, going around again and again, contemplating everything that occurred in the last short while. The knowledge that Morgana was once more active in the fight against Camelot, killing people, physically hurt him as though someone had stabbed him through the heart with an ice-cold blade.

But he refused to get himself caught up with all of that all over again, and focused on what else had happened.

The sight of that man's mutilated body appearing out of nowhere had unnerved him to say the least. He was used to seeing death and blood, but this was different; this radiated pure evil. There was something about those symbols, something that seemed to creep into his heart and soul. He got shivers just thinking about it.

Gaius' words had done nothing to ease his anxiety, only seemed to increase it. Dark Magic. He had always been taught to hate and fear magic, but the very mention of this particular branch of magic heightened his foreboding. He had heard of it before, whispered conversations between the people every time something unexplained happened in the town, and it was always spoken of with extreme fear and revulsion. He sighed, ordinary magic was hard enough to deal with, but Dark Magic...

And then there was this issue with 'Emrys' whatever or whoever that was. Why was that word so important? What did it mean?

Arthur could only guess that whatever it was, it was not good news for Camelot.

He was distracted by a knock on the door. He frowned. When did Merlin ever knock on his door?

"Come in Merlin, don't be such an idiot."

The door creaked slowly open, and a young servant poked his head around the door. A servant who was definitely _not _Merlin.

"If you please sire, your presence is required immediately in the Council Chambers."

His voice shook and he averted his eyes from Arthur's in the traditional mark of respect for the monarchy.

Arthur frowned.

"Where's Merlin?"

The servant looked alarmed at being asked.

"He-he's ill sire."

"Still?"

"Yes, sire."

Arthur felt a momentary sense of concern for Merlin. What was wrong with him? But he had more important matters on his mind.

"I'll be there shortly."

The servant made a hurried bow and quickly shot off leaving Arthur somewhat confused; was he really _that_ intimidating? Merlin had never given any sort of impression that he was.

Again, concern for his manservant rose, but Arthur tried to forget about it, he would see Gaius later and ask after him. He needed to know why he had been summoned.

He entered the Council Chambers a few minutes later, to be greeted by his Knights, his father and his advisers all looking grim.

Geoffrey of Monmouth stepped forward, an aged book in his hands, looking the worse for wear, evidently having stayed up all night. His expression was not promising.

Arthur braced himself for more bad news.

His father gestured to him to speak.

Geoffrey cleared his throat and began.

"I searched all through the night for mention of the name Emrys, and for the most part I was unsuccessful. I thought my search would be in vain, before I thought to look in the section where the oldest books were kept, the ancient records." He stopped and breathed in. "I found a book which had a record of the Druids and their prophecies, an ancient volume of which half was written in some unintelligible language. But eventually I found what I was looking for."

The atmosphere was so tense it could have been cut with a knife. Arthur felt his pulse quicken.

Geoffrey continued.

"The ancient prophecies speak of a man who would come forth in times of adversity, born of an ancient line of sorcerers, born of magic itself. A man who is said to be magic in its purest form. He is said to be the greatest warlock will ever live, with powers greater than anything that has been, is, or ever will be. The Druids call him Emrys."

Arthur felt the breath catch in his throat. _An all powerful sorcerer?" _But Geoffrey was not finished.

"It is also said, that Emrys shall lead the lands of Albion into a new era, a time of magic, and free his people from persecution and oppression. The Druids speak of him with a reverence almost bordering on fear. The writings about his powers are described with utmost respect and attention to detail. It is clear that Emrys to them is seen as some sort of saviour. They fear and respect him. The things that he is said to be able to do are incredible. They say he has power to use magic without incantations, command the elements, control time, and even have the power over life and death itself. I wish I had better news my lord, but this man, if this is really him, is most definitely one to fear."

Arthur breathed out, his whole body flooding with fear before he could stop himself. _This could not be happening._

Sir Leon interrupted.

"Sire, we do not know if this is really true. We cannot set store by these prophecies. It could be that there is a man out there who is claiming to be this legendary Emrys only to inspire people to follow him. It could be a false alarm."

"Or it could actually be who we think it is." Gwaine countered.

Arthur looked to his father, who had said nothing. Uther sat back on his chair, his eyes staring into the distance, his brow furrowed in anxiety. He wasn't going to contribute anything.

This would be on him again.

The thought of this sorcerer, if the legends could be believed, was daunting. A man that sorcerers feared, one whose coming had been prophesied how many years ago? And if Emrys was using Dark Magic, what hope did that leave them?

Arthur looked around at his Knights, gauging their reactions. They all looked worried. The narrative of Geoffrey and the events of yesterday combined made them wary. They were all afraid of what was coming. It was the unknown, and Arthur found himself afraid as well. Monsters and battles he could handle, but magic and mystical sorcerers? He was defenceless.

Then he saw Lancelot's expression, which was the only one that seemed calm. He was frowning as though considering something separate from this conversation, but didn't appear to be worried in the slightest.

"What say you Lancelot?" Arthur asked, intrigued as to Lancelot's reaction.

Lancelot looked up, startled.

"I do not believe this is cause for concern sire."

Gwaine turned round to him in disbelief.

"Not a cause for concern? There's some legendary all-powerful sorcerer with a grudge against Camelot out there sending us corpses with his name carved into it and you don't think there is a cause for concern?"

Lancelot looked at him calmly.

"No I do not."

Gwaine wheeled around in exasperation and looked at Sir Leon who also appeared rather calm.

"And you think this too?"

Leon nodded.

"I think we should consider this carefully before we make any rash actions. This may be exactly what they want, to provoke us into a panic. We have no evidence whatsoever that this man is who he says he is."

"We have evidence that he's stark raving mad don't we? Doesn't that suggest he's a danger to Camelot?"

"Yes, but it does not necessarily follow that he is some magical figure from prophecy."

Arthur listened carefully to their debate, not sure on which side he fell. Both their arguments had merit.

He held up his hand.

"Enough." They all stopped arguing and turned to face him. "You are right Leon, we must gather proof before we jump to conclusions, but at the same time we must not underestimate this man. Geoffrey, do you have any more information regarding Emrys?"

He shook his head.

"There is much written about him, however much of it is in a tongue I cannot decipher. I will do what I can however."

"Thank you. We must know everything we can. In the meantime, I want the border patrols doubled and the city prepared. We must be ready for any eventuality. Whoever this man is, we know enough to know he is dangerous, and therefore a danger to Camelot. And with Morgana and her followers, we now have two serious magical threats to the kingdom. Camelot_ must be prepared_."

His Knights nodded, and Arthur looked to Uther.

"Is that agreeable to you sire?"

But Uther did not hear him, just continued looking into space. Arthur's heart felt as though an iron fist was slowly clenching it. It now all rested on him.

He looked back to his Knights.

"Dismissed."

They all gave a short bow and swept from the room, Arthur made to follow them but turned around to look once more at this father, sitting alone.

Arthur knew now he had to take charge. The city was doomed otherwise.

He just hoped it wasn't already too late.

* * *

When Merlin woke, he found himself lying in a soft bed with sunlight streaming through the windows. His head ached and he felt tired, but ultimately much better than he had the previous day.

All that had happened came flooding back, but he tried to push it away, keep his mind clear. He wasn't going to allow that to happen again.

"Feeling better?"

Merlin whipped his head around, ignoring the throbbing sensation and found Gaius sitting by his bed with a strained expression.

"Gaius," Merlin called, his voice hoarse. "What happened, where am I?"

"You're in Gwen's house."

Merlin frowned, and looked around, and true enough, here he was. In Gwen's bed. Merlin sniggered to himself, what would Arthur say if he found out Merlin had spent the night in _Gwen's _bed?

"But how? I don't even remember getting here."

Gaius bit his lip.

"You collapsed, in the corridor. Lancelot brought you here. Your body had just completely given up. Gwen gave up her bed and spent the entire night nursing you. You had a fever through the night, you were delirious. Shouting... things."

Merlin felt a sense of dread.

"What sort of things?"

But Gaius avoided his gaze.

"Better not said I think."

Merlin groaned. This was the last thing he needed.

Gaius looked around, before drawing closer to Merlin.

Merlin asked: "Why did that affect me so Gaius? Why not you or anyone else? Why just me?"

"Your magic makes you unusually perceptive Merlin, you can sense magic more acutely than the rest of us. We all felt something, you just, reacted more to it. And I believe this magic was directed at you, and only you."

"Why?"

"I believe because they want to recruit you."

Merlin's mouth fell open in shock. Recruit him? This was an offer of employment? What sort of person made an offer like that?

"Who would want to recruit me?"

Gaius glanced around.

"Anyone who has heard the prophecies I expect. Your power is legendary Merlin. This magic may be an attempt to turn you against Arthur and Camelot and to convince you to follow them instead."

Merlin's stomach clenched in dread. He knew in his right mind he would never betray Arthur, not even when faced with death, but with all of this Dark Magic...He couldn't deny its power. The thought of how he had rose up in anger yesterday against his friends, how he had relished in the sight of that blood...it convinced him that whoever was sending him these things had a hold over him. And the thought terrified him.

Merlin tried to keep calm, if he allowed himself to fear what he was becoming he would only be more susceptible to it. He asked: "What do Arthur and the rest of them know about this?"

Gaius answered:

"The court now knows about the prophecies of Emrys, and they're afraid. They make you out to be pretty intimidating."

Merlin felt a small sense of curiosity.

"Why, what do they say?"

Gaius shook his head and scolded him.

"I'm not going to further inflate your head Merlin. Just suffice it to say, they believe you're dangerous."

Merlin breathed out. As amusing as it was to think of Arthur being afraid of him, he was alarmed at what the prophecies said. If he was so dangerous, what would happen if he couldn't stop this downward spiral. What if they succeeded in turning him? What hope would Arthur then stand?

Gaius pulled him out of his thoughts.

"These symbols, I looked into it. They are portals. A means of magical transportation. I believe that if you stand on them and utter the correct spell, they will take you to whoever it was that summoned you."

Merlin sat bolt upright.

"You mean, I can find out whoever sent me them?"

Gaius nodded.

"It is my belief they want you to come to them. They're tempting you. They want to use you for their own purposes Merlin."

He considered for a moment. Finding some evil dark sorcerers who were ruthless and wanted to use him as a pawn to destroy Camelot and everyone inside it?

Merlin breathed in a deep breath.

"I want to go."

* * *

**A/N: Again, reviews would be awesome guys! I feel as though the story's not progressing fast enough, what do you guys think of the pace? Good or bad? I like to really thoroughly over-describe everything and I'm afraid it might get too repetitive or boring, so...**

**I also wasn't too sure about creating a bit of a Gwaine/Lancelot conflict. I'm not suggesting they hate each other, just that Gwaine's feeling a little bit left out. I'd imagine that after everything that happened with Morgana, Merlin _would_ spend a lot of time with Lancelot. So is it good or really awful? *bites lip*  
**

**Hope you likey! Hope you reviewy! :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Thanks again for all the lovely reviews! They make me sooo happy!**

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* * *

**

**Going**

Arthur sat alone in the echoing, cold Council Chambers poring over a table haphazardly strewn with parchments and scrolls, all of which screamed for his attention. The only noise was the scratching of his quill, and his occasional heavy sighs as he contemplated the large pile of work that awaited him and that didn't seem to be getting any smaller.

He was frustrated beyond belief. Sorcerers were threatening his kingdom, plotting against him; he should be out there fighting to defend it, not sitting here doing paperwork! His father's advisers however insisted upon it, and Arthur complied, if somewhat grudgingly. If he was going to lead these people he had to do it properly. However, as he finished placing the Pendragon seal on one official order, and lifted it to find another equally long and boring document to read, he made a solemn vow: when he was king, paperwork would be the first thing to go.

Still, he didn't see what else he could do, he felt so incredibly helpless. What chance did Camelot really stand against such powerful enemies? If it had been a normal army, he could have dealt with it in his own way, but magic was the one thing they could not defend themselves from, the one thing they couldn't fight back with. And they knew it.

One sorcerer was bad enough, but a group of them working together?

Arthur wasn't sure who he should be more concerned about, Morgana or Emrys? However unfamiliar the idea of Morgana being evil still was to him, he knew of her intents, her sheer capacity for evil. However, this Emrys was steeped in mystery, and the thought of what this man may or may not be able to do frightened him.

Was he right to do so? Was Emrys the real threat?

Arthur tried to push these thoughts away, there was no point agonising over this _again_. There was little he could do at present.

A soft knock at the door made him raise him head expectantly. _Please let it be good news._

The door creaked open and Lancelot appeared in the doorway. Arthur tried not to feel disappointed. He had to admit, he had hoped for Gwen, to see her standing there, her smiling face aglow, ready to make him forget everything else except the two of them would have brought a little light into his dark thoughts.

However, he beckoned to Lancelot to move closer, and he came forward, moving quickly, his manner distracted.

Arthur frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Lancelot fixed him with a solid look.

"It's your father, sire."

Arthur stiffened, his hands clutching the arms of the chair so tightly he thought they would break.

"What has happened?"

Lancelot sighed and looked away.

"He's ranting and raving about sorcerers, screaming that they're invading the city and murdering his people. He's confused, hallucinating, hysterical."

Arthur felt a stab of pain in his chest. To hear of his once-strong father acting like this...

Lancelot continued.

"Gaius has given him a sleeping draught and he seems to have calmed down, but he's demanding we begin a city-wide search for Emrys. Hunt him down."

Arthur buried his face in his hands. If only it were that simple.

"If Emrys really is as powerful as we fear, he will not be foolish enough to remain in the city."

Something changed in Lancelot's eyes, but he said nothing. Arthur watched him for a moment.

"You really don't believe this Emrys is a threat?"

Lancelot looked up at him.

"I did not say that. Only that is is foolish to act upon presumptions. We cannot know his true motives."

Arthur scoffed.

"He's a known murderer and user of Dark Magic. I think we know what he could do to Camelot!"

"Unless the message was _for_ Emrys, and not from him."

Arthur just stared at him.

"What are you suggesting? That Emrys could be on our side?"

"We cannot rule anything out, sire."

"Why would a powerful sorcerer wish to protect Camelot?"

"I don't know. Perhaps that was what the true users of the Dark Magic wanted to find out."

Arthur considered this for a moment, before dismissing it completely. The whole idea was ridiculous.

"The prophecy said he wanted to 'return magic to the land and free his people from persecution and oppression'. That doesn't sound as though he's an ally of Camelot!"

Lancelot turned to look out of the window.

"Perhaps what he wants is not so bad." He said it so quietly Arthur wasn't even sure he had heard him correctly.

Arthur shook his head. "He could be working with Morgana for all we know."

"I don't believe that." Lancelot spoke quietly.

"How can you be sure?" Arthur asked in exasperation.

Lancelot said nothing, just continued to stare out of the window.

Arthur threw down his quill, and leaned back; he was never going to get any work done now.

Suddenly Lancelot spoke: "Have you heard from Merlin lately?"

Arthur frowned in confusion.

"What has Merlin got to do with Emrys?"

"He wasn't at the Council this morning with Gaius," Lancelot answered swiftly. "I fear he's still ill."

Arthur thought back. Come to think of it, he didn't recall seeing Merlin there.

"I'll stop by Gaius' later, see how he is." Arthur resolved. Merlin may complain to high heavens when ever asked to do anything, but he had never missed a day of work for illness. And Arthur was worried for him.

Lancelot shook his head.

"He isn't there."

Panic rose in Arthur's chest.

"Why?"

Lancelot frowned.

"He collapsed yesterday in the corridor. He had asked me not to take him to Gaius'. He said...he said Gaius was too busy to take care of him. I took him to Gwen's, she said she'd look after him."

Lancelot looked pained at the mention of Gwen, and Arthur felt a small tingling of suspicion. Did Lancelot still harbour feelings for Gwen? He didn't pursue it however; Lancelot would never betray him, and he could readily understand the attraction Lancelot felt for her.

"I'll go to her now then."

Lancelot nodded sadly, and Arthur felt a small feeling of pity, mingled with his concern for Merlin. He didn't like inflicting pain on Lancelot, however unintentional it was. Still, there were plenty of eligible Ladys at Court, Arthur hoped fervently one of them would catch Lancelot's eye soon.

He stood up, clapped Lancelot on the shoulder, and walked heavily to the door, turning around before he left the room, to see Lancelot motionless.

He stood there still, looking out through the window over the city of Camelot, bathed in the afternoon sun, his eyes a tormented mixture of pain and misery, something Arthur hoped never to experience.

Lancelot turned to look at him.

"Gwen will be waiting for you sire."

Arthur nodded, turned and swiftly left the room.

* * *

"You what!" Gaius practically shouted.

Merlin answered calmly: "I want to go and meet them."

Gaius looked at him as though he was mad.

"You _want _to meet these blood-thirsty corrupter's of magic?"

"Yep."

Gaius shook his head in disbelief.

"And may I ask in the name of all that is good on this earth, _why?_"

Merlin looked at him evenly.

"How am I going to find out what they want otherwise?"

"They're evil madmen Merlin! They're dangerous!"

"So am I." Merlin spoke in an almost whisper.

Gaius' eyes widened.

"You're not seriously thinking you can take them on?"

"If not me then who else?"

"Merlin! Dark Magic is much more powerful, it corrupts the mind, turns it black and twisted. You've no chance against them, particularly in your current state!"

"Then neither has Camelot!" Merlin's eyes flashed and he spoke defiantly. "They want me. And I'll go to them. I need to know what they want from me! They'll only keep killing, trying to get me to go to them, keep sending these symbols. They'll drive me mad eventually. They could hurt other people. Going to them is the only way! And if they kill me, so be it. Perhaps then they'll leave Camelot alone!"

Gaius was speechless, his mouth opening and closing. Merlin prepared himself for an argument. He _wanted _to fight, the darkness called on him. He knew that this was what he had to do. He'd known it from the appearance of the first symbol. He would have to face this.

A knock at the door distracted them, and Merlin was shocked to see Arthur walk through the door.

Merlin hurriedly sat straight up ignoring the pain in his head, and attempted to give a weak smile, but something held him back. Something deep within himself was _not _pleased to see him. He ignored it.

"Never knew you cared Arthur," he joked. "Or are you only here hoping to run into someone else?"

Arthur came closer and didn't smile.

"You look awful Merlin."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

Arthur ignored him.

"Are you all right? Lancelot said you collapsed."

Merlin looked away.

"I'm fine," he mumbled.

Arthur frowned.

"You don't seem okay Merlin."

"For heaven's stop will you just stop interrogating me?" Merlin shouted, his head throbbing at the exertion.

Arthur drew back surprised, and looked to Gaius for an explanation.

"He's tired sire. He needs rest."

Merlin scowled. Why did they insist on talking about him when he was sitting right there? He was not a child.

Arthur nodded, and turned to leave, still looking surprised and confused. Merlin immediately felt bad for shouting, he _never _shouted at Arthur, well, hardlyever.

Before Arthur could leave however, Gwen bustled through the door, and collided with Arthur, who caught her before she could stumble.

"Guinevere!" He greeted her warmly, a huge smile spreading out over his face.

Merlin snorted, and Arthur threw him a dangerous look.

Gwen blushed furiously as she noticed Arthur's arms were still holding her.

"Arthur," she smiled sweetly, her eyes on his face.

They looked at each other so fondly, Merlin felt the need to raise his voice.

"Oi! There are other people in here too you know."

Arthur turned and glared at him, giving him a look Merlin interpreted clearly as meaning 'Just you wait till you're better, I'm going to kill you.' Or something like that.

Arthur bowed his head to her, smiled, and stepped around her to go through the door, calling back over his shoulder:

"I expect you back at work tomorrow morning bright and early Merlin!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, and immediately started plotting ways to get him back. The sudden change in his personality continued to surprise him. Why was it one moment he was his usual cheery self, and the next thinking less than pleasant thoughts about people he cared about? He decided he would try and figure it out later, when his head did not hurt so much.

Gwen still stood where Arthur had left her, slightly flustered, before she realised Merlin and Gaius were still in the room, whereupon she blushed again.

She came to the bed.

"How are you Merlin?"

"Better." said Merlin. He noticed she was avoiding his eyes. What sort of things had he shouted during his fever?

Gaius stood up to leave, their argument could now obviously be continued no longer with Gwen hanging around.

He shot Merlin a penetrating look which seemed to say: _Don't do it Merlin._"

Merlin made no sign of reply.

Gaius regarded him for a moment, before he turned and shuffled out of the door.

Merlin watched him go, and knew what he was going to do.

Gwen, moved around him, mumbling something about dinner, but Merlin wasn't listening. Nothing Gaius had said would dissuade him. It seemed his mentor's stubbornness was starting to rub off on him.

Night fell, and the moon and twinkling stars were obscured by a thin layer of angry cloud. Guards moved through the streets, watchful, on the ready for anything the darkness could throw at them.

But they didn't see the dark shadow as it slipped past them, hidden in doorways. Merlin flitted from house to house like a ghost, well practised at moving around the city at night without being noticed. It was second nature to him.

He made no sound as he picked his way through winding alleys and twisting lanes, dodging a mangy cat or two that yowled at his ankles for a scrap of food.

He soon found his way back to Gaius' chambers, and slowly eased the door open, listening intently, until he heard Gaius' slow steady breathing.

He pushed the door open the full way, and crept inside, moving slowly as a breeze.

He tip-toed past Gaius' sleeping form, and stood at the table, upon which many old books were spread out in a messy jumble. His eyes were immediately drawn to the largest, where a vast illustration was spread out over an entire page. The symbol.

Merlin smiled, Gaius made this too easy.

Across the page, were instructions on how to access the magic created by the energy from the symbol. How to find the ones who had sent it. Merlin read it through quickly, the spell was easy enough, now for the hard part.

He stepped away from the table, and cast his eyes into the corner of the room where he knew the symbols lurked. He sucked in a readying breath. _Focus._

He slowly made his way to the corner, the darkness of the room ebbing as he drew closer. Instantly he felt the pull of the magic, tempting him with evil thoughts, but he rejected them, focusing solely on what he had to do. He conjured up images of his friends in his mind, Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, Gwen, Elyan, even distant Percival whom Merlin had barely spoken to. He focused on their faces, they gave him strength.

He had finally approached the symbols.

He hesitated no longer.

He stepped out with his right foot, and centred himself directly on the middle symbol, ignoring the exhilarating rush of magic that threatened to overwhelm him. _Don't be tempted, think of them, think of who you're doing this for..._

Merlin summoned his magic.

_"Cyningæðe mec aet gewrit hwa aelfric snefian mec!"_

The symbol glowed an unnatural green, a furious green which blocked out all else in his vision. He felt the surges of magic radiating from the mark, it came across him like waves, burning his skin, yet caressing it at the same time, engulfing his mind. He felt himself become lighter and lift from the ground, lost in a swirling emerald mist, torrents of wind buffeting him from every direction. At the last moment, he thought he could hear a distant shout, pleading with him to come back.

Then it was black.

* * *

Gwen awoke suddenly from her sleep, knowing something was terribly amiss. She breathed in deeply, trying to control her ragged breaths. Her night clothes stuck to her sweaty skin and her whole body shook. She felt a cold shudder run through her, a tingling on the back of her neck.

Something had happened.

She lifted herself hurriedly from the make-shift bed she had constructed on the floor, and pulled a shawl around her trembling shoulders. She ran to the window and peered out into the peaceful street. She could hear no distant screaming, no cries for help, no warning bell. What then had roused her from her slumber?

She couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding. Something deep within her paced like a wild beast, something was dreadfully wrong.

Then she saw it.

Merlin's bed was empty.

She froze in a panic.

Where could he have gone in the middle of the night? Why? He wasn't well enough to go wandering around!

He immediately threw open the door and ran out into the night, she had to find him. She didn't know why exactly, only that she knew he was in grave danger.

She had heard him the previous night, moaning, gasping, screaming in his sleep, as she mopped at his brow with a cold cloth. He had shouted, harsh words in a language she did not recognise, forceful words, with a note of power behind them. Gaius had told her it was the delirium, but Gwen could remember when Merlin had been poisoned before. He had uttered those same words, only now they were angry, and not faint murmurs.

She had heard his pleading, his sobbing, his cries. _Help me! Please...leave me. No! I won't betray him! Please, stop..._

He had called on Gaius, on Arthur, even herself. He seemed to think they were in danger, no matter how many times she held his hand and whispered to him that everything was all right.

He had screamed in agony, as though he was being tortured, begging his tormentors to leave him alone.

Gwen felt tears spilling from her eyes. Merlin needed care, he wasn't well. Where could he be?

A group of guards spotted her running through the streets.

"Oi! Don't you know there's a curfew?"

Gwen begged them.

"Please, my friend. He's gone missing, I need to find him!"

The guards sneered.

"Well then, wait until the morning."

"You don't understand! He's ill!"

But the guards just laughed.

"Gwen?"

She wheeled around at the sound of her name, and saw Lancelot emerging from the darkness. Her mind went blank with relief.

"Lancelot! You need to help! Merlin's not in bed. He's gone off somewhere! He can't be left alone!"

* * *

Lancelot heard her words echoing through his mind. _No..._

He knew where Merlin would have gone. Gaius had told him about the symbols.

Gwen stood before him, tears leaking from her beautiful eyes, her face grief-stricken. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, tell her everything would be all right.

One of the guards who had stopped her, came up behind him.

"Out for a stroll Lancelot? Out to meet your little lady friend?"

Lancelot felt his blood boil, and if it had been any other time, he would have struck the man for his insinuation.

"That is none of your business. Now, you will escort _Lady Guinevere_ back to her home."

"No!" Gwen shouted, her eyes pleading with him. "Merlin!"

"I will find him," he reassured her, hoping what he was telling her was the truth.

She stared at him helplessly for a moment, and she stepped back and nodded slightly.

Lancelot turned, and ran, making his way towards Gaius' chambers. He hoped he was not too late.

He leapt up the stairs and slammed his way through the door, to find Gaius standing alone in the room, staring aimlessly at a spot on the floor.

He turned to face Lancelot.

"He's gone. He's gone to find them."

**A/N: Okay, I know it's another cliffy, I'm just that mean...hehe. I was going to have the actual meeting in this chapter but it ended up being FAR too long, soooo, sorry if it's taking forever to get to the real action. Should be getting into it now though!**

**Reviews make me smile...smiles make me happy...happy means writing...writing means updates...updates mean Merlin suffers...please review! :D**

**Not that I'm that cruel...*cackles evilly*  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Been a few days since I last updated, and I was on a roll too! Anyways, was visiting family down in England at the weekend (Blackpool Pleasure Beach ftw!) so this is the first time I've had for a while. I'm gonna try and do regular updates if I can, unlike my last story which started out really well and finished with me updating every other month or so.**

**Anyways, hope you like! :D**

* * *

**Rotten**

He was in a swirling mist, a dream-like trance from which he could not, and would not wake. He was apart from his body, as though he had become some sort of ethereal observer. He wasn't really there, was he?

He drifted in the darkness, letting it wash over him, engulfing him, he was drowning in it. Yet, oddly, he was at ease. Magic pulsed through his veins, simmering below the surface with an untold power Merlin had never known existed. It was intoxicating, flowing through him like an endless river of power. He wanted to just lie back in it, savour it, let it take control. His mind was blank.

Yet...

A single thought pushed its way through the confusion of power. It was nagging at him, as though reminding him of something he was supposed to do. He tried to ignore it- it wasn't important. But this, this _power_...

The thought came again, more persistent this time, and Merlin's annoyance grew; why couldn't it just leave him alone? It was like one of those insects that refused to go away no matter how much you swatted at them.

It grew and grew in his mind, taking over, pushing aside that feeling of power. He angrily conceded, and resigned himself to it.

He was here for a reason- what was it? What had happened?

Suddenly it hit him as though he had been drenched in ice-cold water. The sorcerers!

He opened his eyes, squinting slightly as the bright glare of the moon overhead met his eyes. He was in a forest clearing, as he had expected- all secret gatherings of sorcerers seemed to happen in forests. Dark menacing trees closed in on him, the light of the moon shining off their uppermost branches dousing them in silver. There was utter darkness in between the trees, as though it was some dark other world that no light could touch. It felt as though there was nothing left outside of the clearing, that there was no life left in the world, that it simply did not exist. The silence was overwhelming.

He was completely alone.

Merlin scowled. So they were planning some big dramatic entrance then? Merlin had no doubt whatsoever that they were expecting him, so why were they not here?

As though his thoughts had suddenly been willed into being, Merlin felt a magical presence materialise behind him, his senses roaring at him to turn around. The presence was neither malevolent, nor friendly, but that did not reassure him. Sorcerers who were up to no good _always_ sneaked up behind someone, like some pathetic attempt to appear impressive.

Well, he wasn't going to be caught off-guard. He turned slowly on the spot, keeping his face emotionless as he took in the appearance of the figure which stood alone in the moonlight. He was hooded and cloaked, but Merlin could still make out his face under the shadow of the hood, and was shocked.

Ordinarily it would have been a perfectly average face; some stubble covering a proud chin, a high forehead across which strings of black hair streaked with grey fell in a lazy manner, which concealed some of the many deep wrinkles etched in the man's face. He didn't appear to be that old, but these wrinkles criss-crossed over his face like deep crevasses in his skin. But it was his eyes that made Merlin's heart leap into his throat.

They were black. Completely and utterly black, as though two lumps of coal had been cast into his eye-sockets. They shimmered, like shiny blocks of onyx, unblinking, staring, full of malice. Merlin felt an involuntary shudder run though his body. He knew he was looking at the result of Dark Magic.

Nonetheless, he kept his face expressionless, waiting for the sorcerer to speak first. He was in no hurry. He then felt a rush of magic come over him, and he almost threw up his defences in retaliation, but managed to stop himself. It was only a simple probing spell, the sorcerer was magically searching him, sensing his magic, assessing his power. Merlin had to force himself to stay still. Let him look, he thought, he'll see what power I have.

Finally, the spell ceased and Merlin relaxed. He considered doing the same thing back, to see what he was dealing with, but decided against it. He knew what kind of magic he'd find in that man and he wanted to avoid it if he possibly could. He needed to keep his mind clear. Instead, he settled for looking into the man's lifeless eyes, unnerved at how they seemed to see straight through him. Although he wasn't sure those eyes were looking at him, it was impossible to tell, they seemed as though they could see everything.

Suddenly the man smiled, if a smile it could be called. His teeth were nothing more than rotten stumps, his gums mottled and black, his tongue was a rotten piece of flesh, and when he smiled, thick clotted blood oozed down from his gums and gathered in his mouth. Merlin tried to conceal his revulsion but found the bile rising in his throat. He forced it back. He intended to listen to this man, and being sick at the mere sight of him would not bode well for him.

The man stepped closer, and Merlin was hit with the smell: rotten flesh.

"I had expected you long before this Emrys." He spoke in a guttural voice, harsh and jarring in the silence of the clearing, impeded slightly by the rotted mess that was his mouth.

"Really? And why would that be?" Merlin asked calmly, almost conversationally. He had decided not to try and antagonise this man by immediately issuing accusations and trying to gain the upper hand. He intended to find out what they wanted, and if they believed he was on their side, at least for a little while, he would find out far sooner. He would just let it all unfold, perhaps that way he would learn more of what he needed. It was far more difficult than he thought, the disgust and hatred he had for this man was more powerful than he had anticipated.

The man smiled that disgusting smile once more.

"Magic cannot resist the call of magic."

He stepped even closer, and Merlin started breathing through his mouth to minimise the overwhelming stench.

"We knew you would come. The allure of Dark Magic is too powerful for even you to resist."

Merlin stiffened.

The man continued: "You could not resist what the darkest thoughts of your mind were telling you."

Merlin tried to remain emotionless, but a sliver of fear entered his mind at the man's words- he knew he was right.

"And why, may I ask, have you summoned me here?" Merlin asked tonelessly, forcing his voice to remain calm.

"You may call it...an offer of employment."

"And what makes you think I will accept whatever it is that you want me to do?" Merlin felt a sense of foreboding. Gaius had been right.

The man smirked.

"You will find it very hard to resist."

Merlin's anger flared up.

"You mean to force me?"

"No Emrys, I mean for you to force yourself."

Merlin fell silent. He didn't like where this was going.

The man continued to smirk. He gestured with one horrible, withered hand to the side of the clearing, where Merlin now noticed, a dark overhung path had appeared.

"Perhaps we may discuss this further with the others?"

Merlin eyed him suspiciously. He knew what it was they probably wanted. It was always the same; destroying Camelot, killing the king, taking their revenge...the usual. He had absolutely no intention of betraying Arthur, no matter what this Dark Magic was doing to him, but...if he pretended to go along with it...well, perhaps he may hear something useful.

He nodded curtly, and strode as confidently as he could, keeping his face as mask-like as possible, and stepped onto the path and began to follow it's snake-like trail through the ominous trees. The man followed behind, and Merlin felt his black eyes boring into his back and felt uneasy with him following.

They walked in silence for a while, Merlin trying to control his growing sense of dread. The trees scowled down at him, malicious roots reaching out to trip him, jagged rocks like teeth lining the stony path. As they went deeper and deeper into the woods, the path widened and the man fell into step beside him. The stench reached his nostrils once more and Merlin almost retched. The man was at least a head shorter than Merlin, his back bent over, his steps fragile and weak as he moved on laboriously, his ragged breaths breaking the silence. His robes shifted slightly and Merlin caught a glimpse of his bare arm. It was rotten right through. The bone shone out. Merlin looked away, fighting his nausea. He looked instead at the woods, and he noticed they were changing as they went deeper and deeper. The trees were dying. Their leaves and branches were withered and brittle. All plant life, all life anywhere near was annihilated. The ground was hard and cracked, and giving off a foul odour, as though it had been poisoned and left to die. There was no life anywhere. It was as if a great pestilence had surged through the land, leaving only these scars of what had been. Even the realm of the Fisher King had looked healthier.

Then, the man spoke: "You have done well Emrys. Most people vomit, or freeze in terror at the mere sight of me. Some have even been known to run away."

Merlin said nothing. He could understand why.

"You would be right to do so Emrys. My body is ravaged, rotten, foul. I am not yet thirty, yet my body is frailer than a man's thrice my age."

"And what has caused that?"

The man chuckled.

"I think you have already guessed. The same thing which blights this once beautiful land. Dark Magic."

Merlin nodded, his fears had been confirmed.

"And why would you want to put yourself through this?"

The man leered at him.

"Power does not come without sacrifice." He looked ahead for a few moments. "We are now entering the realm of my people. The clearing you saw is the border gateway. It can only be reached by magic. It exists outside of time. Only when the moon is shining on the clearing is the path visible. Only through there can my realm be reached."

"You're placing a lot of trust in someone who may or not be an ally."

The man grinned evilly.

"I have no doubt of what you will become."

Merlin ignored this and tried to learn as much as possible: "So who are your 'people', do you all use Dark Magic?"

The man cackled.

"Of course not. Dark Magic can only be used by the strongest of both magic and mind. We are the Wandrian, the wanderers. Most of us are just sorcerers in search of a place to live and learn. Any who are Gifted are welcome among us. Including those who find the magic of the 'Old Religion'...shall we say, _tame._"

Merlin felt a deadly thrill he could not explain.

The man leered at him again, and Merlin tried to avoid those terrible eyes.

"And what are you then, their leader?"

"Most assuredly so, I am Hafela, Head of the Realm," he replied with a sneer. "Although the Wandrian are not exclusively users of Dark Magic, we who use the Dark art are the, how shall I say, _ruling class_, rather like your nobility. I have mastered the use of Dark Magic, it has consumed me body and soul, therefore I was chosen to lead. That was my blessing."

Merlin sniffed, and thought of the rotten flesh Hafela, was concealing beneath his robes.

"Some blessing."

Hafela smiled wryly.

"To be chosen by Dark Magic _is _a blessing Emrys. The power and pleasure it gives far outweighs the unpleasantness of the asking price."

Merlin wasn't convinced. Hafela noticed the doubt on his face.

"It matters not our differing views on Dark Magic Emrys. There are many among us who choose not to use Dark Magic- they have neither the strength or the courage for it. But we do not push them- Dark Magic will find them, one way or another. We do not wish to turn you into a Dark warlock, only, for your help."

Merlin highly doubted he would be able to do anything to help them, and he wasn't entirely convinced by Hafela's claims that they didn't want for him to learn Dark Magic.

"Then why send me all those symbols if not trying to convert me?"

Hafela's eyes sparkled.

"We had to get your attention somehow didn't we?"

Merlin looked away, they had certainly done that. A surge of anger rose inside him, a man had _died, _ because they only wanted his attention. A giant banner would have done the trick.

The man stopped. They had come to the edge of the forest. "We are here Emrys, the land of the Wandrian."

Merlin's first thought was death.

To their backs stood the dead forest, branches parched and cracked. To their left was a vast barren plain, stretching for as far as Merlin could see. From what Merlin could tell, it had once been a beautiful valley, with pastures and rivers, but now was scarred and desolate, the only sign of life being the carrion crows which swooped here and there giving their deadly cries. A shallow channel ran through it, dry and dusty, the ghost of a river. Across this plain in front of him, were dotted tiny little houses, or rather, shacks, some barely more than cloth propped up by sticks. If Merlin could not see movement within the darkness of these buildings, he would have thought they were uninhabitated. They were pitiful dwellings, as though the inhabitants had just given up on life. Even the animals in Ealdor had had a better home than these people. The remains of fires burned outside these dwellings, thin streams of smoke rising into the black sky. But it was the castle that really drew his attention.

To his right, standing there proudly facing the little dwellings and the vast plain was an enormous cliff of craggy rock out of which a castle seemed to almost grow out of. Where the cliff ended and the castle began was impossible to say, they were fused together. Dark stone seemed to reflect the light of the moon, and Merlin saw it as clearly as if it had been day. Its many turrets and towers rose threateningly into the sky as though trying to make war with the clouds.

But despite all this, the castle was little more than a ruin, with only one side of it in anyway intact enough to live in, yet it still gave off a sense of grandeur, majesty and evil. Merlin could feel the Dark Magic emanating from it, filling his body, clouding his mind...no! He refused to let himself be drawn in by it and with every ounce of strength he had, he tore his eyes away. He wouldn't let the magic defeat him.

Hafela sniggered, blood gurgling in his throat. "Now you see what I mean by finding it hard to resist." He continued on, down a small hill, and began to make his way through the tiny 'village', towards the remains of the castle gates. "Even the strongest of wills may fall!"

Merlin stood still for a few moments. What was he doing? Was he completely mad? He was going to enter a place of pure evil willingly? But he made a resolution- he had to do this, for Arthur, Gwen, Lancelot, Gaius...if there was an evil threat to Camelot, they needed someone who knew as much as possible about it. Merlin decided it was time for some spying. Not that he'd ever been much good at it.

He followed Hafela through the dark and dingy pathways that served as streets. Faces looked out at him, mad, leering faces, gaunt and terrible. Some had eyes rimmed with black, flesh on their faces or necks rotting away, others were merely haunted looking, afraid, tormented. They stared at him as he walked past, and looked at Hafela with absolute terror. Many did indeed shriek and run away at the sight of him.

It was utter depravity, poverty, suffering, disease, it was everywhere. Never before had Merlin seen such squalor.

They passed people outside their homes, sitting on the ground rocking back and forth muttering to themselves, others were chasing imaginary beasts around their ankles, some were screaming for no apparent reason, others were sobbing uncontrollably.

Merlin couldn't help but stare.

"Living in the shadow of the castle is not easy for them." Hafela answered his unasked question. "Even for the ones who already practise Dark Magic. It was built by Manfull, the greatest Dark warlock to ever live, entirely from the blackest of arts. It is one of our focal points, where we can gain the strength for our spells and enchantments; it is imbued with magic. It is said Manfull sat and chanted for three days and three nights, and the castle grew out of the rock behind it. However, it can have some, detrimental, effects on the people here."

A semi-naked man came charging out of the nearest shack at this point, yelling and whooping with glee and delight, dancing and laughing on the path in front of them, completely oblivious to all else.

"Like that for example." Hafela sighed, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

_That's rich,_ Merlin thought, _you're hardly one to judge, look what it's done to you!_ Still, Merlin had to admit, if the situation hadn't been serious, he would have had a hard time resisting the urge to laugh.

The old man suddenly stopped his raucous laughter, and turned to look at Merlin as though suddenly realising he was there. Upon meeting Merlin's eyes, he gave a wild shout and burst into song and laughter once more and came running towards him.

"You are magic! You are magic!" He laughed. "You are magic! You have come! Ha ha! You have come to save us!" Here the man grew suddenly sombre, and his eyes took on a maniacal look. "But beware, beware! Torment and conflict you bring, darkness and temptation you will receive! A death shall come of your suffering, a life shall be lost for the path you choose! Let not your heart become cold! Let it not consume you! Only then can the battle be won! Sunlight, not moonlight! Warm, not cold! Life, not death! You are magic!"

And with that he raced off, leaving Merlin bewildered. He felt a trickling of unease creep into him. He tried to ignore it. The ramblings of a crazy old man, he thought, they didn't mean anything.

But did they? Several of the things he had said had made sense. Was this a prophecy? Merlin felt a cold sense of dread. _ A life will be lost? _He felt panic rising in his chest. Would this darkness really consume him? He tried to shake it off; they were just some nonsense words.

He looked to Hafela who was regarding the man with something akin to revulsion.

He looked back at Merlin and grimaced.

"Nacod. One of our more eccentric members. He wasn't strong enough, his mind was too weak to handle the Dark Magic. He has been like that ever since."

Merlin felt slightly uncomfortable.

"And does he often say things like that?"

Hafela dismissed this with a wave of his withered hand.

"Pay it no heed. He is a crazy old man who seeks attention far more often than he deserves it. He fancies himself a Seer, thinks that his encounter with Dark Magic has given him the Gift of foresight. He is mad."

However, Merlin got the distinct feeling he was being lied to. Or was that him just being paranoid about what Nacod had said?

The gateway into the interior ruins to the castle drew closer and closer and Merlin felt himself looking up at the still strong walls in apprehension. He felt as though they were watching his every move.

Finally, they reached the gateway, where a shimmering mist seemed to hang in mid-air, glinting and drawing him in.

Hafela stepped forwards first. He held out his hand and muttered.

"Lǣtan mec beinnen."

The mist parted and Hafela passed through. Merlin's curiosity got the better of him for a moment; what would that mist do to someone without the spell?

Nevertheless, he didn't try to find out. As soon as Hafela had passed through, Merlin held out his hand and uttered the same incantation. Again, the mists parted and Merlin strode through the gateway. But then it hit him.

An agonising surge of memories flooded through his mind, flashing quickly and painfully, burning him from the inside, bringing him to his knees with a splitting headache.

_Will looking up at him as he lay dying in Ealdor after saving Arthur's life..._

_Watching his mother slowly dying from illness..._

_Seeing Gaius lying lifeless on the Isle of the Blessed..._

_Holding Freya, as she died..._

_Watching the dragon tear apart Camelot, knowing he had been the one to release it..._

_His father telling him was was proud with his dying breath..._

_Poisoning Morgana..._

_Knowing he had been the one who had turned Morgana into what she was..._

Suddenly he was torn from these memories, and he lay on the ground gasping for air as though he had just emerged from a pool of water.

What was that?

Hafela stood over him, smiling.

"The castle has many secrets. Many tests and trials. You may yet discover them all."

That didn't help much.

Merlin stood, shaken but steady. It was only to be expected after all that being this close to evil magic would awaken all his bad memories. He just had to try and control it.

He spoke, trying to sound calm: "Lead on."

Hafela's mouth twitched, and he spun on his heel and marched off through the remains of some corridors. Merlin followed behind. Everywhere evil seemed to loom out at him. Dark shadows followed him, dark faces in corners, misshapen statutes whose eyes followed him. He concentrated on his feet, and nothing else. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

After several twists and turns, Hafela eventually led him to a great hall, seemingly the only intact building left. It was dark and shadowy, like the rest of the castle, ancient wooden chairs and tables covered in cobwebs in the centre of the room. Dark, tortured faces were painted on the walls, the tiny number of candles which lit the hall seemed to flicker dangerously.

Just when Merlin was beginning to wonder why he had been brought here-

"Hafela! You have returned."

Merlin turned to see two more men emerging from the shadows. One, the one who had spoken, was immensely old, as though he were a part of the earth itself, ever ageing, never dying. Or perhaps he just appeared that way, Merlin wondered, for he saw by the man's eyes, which were almost completely black save for a small rim of white in the outer regions, that this man was a practitioner of Dark Magic. His left hand was missing, and Merlin saw a bloody stump protruding from his robes, where a clear white bone was visible.

The other man was younger, and not as experienced at Dark Magic, as evidenced by his eyes, whose pupils were only slightly enlarged, the blue of the iris still barely visible. But he too bore the brunt of the magic, an entire side of his neck was mottled black, and the skin appeared to be peeling away. Across his face was an enormous scar, which stretched from his right temple, to his left jawbone. Merlin somehow knew this wasn't the result of the magic. Feeling Merlin's eyes on him, he turned to look at him, and glared at him with evident hatred.

The older man however, remained calm.

"Was your trip successful?"

Hafela smirked.

"You can see for yourself."

They both turned to look at Merlin, who was suddenly self-conscious. They scrutinised him carefully.

The younger man snorted.

"_This _is Emrys? He's nothing more than a boy! A serving boy!"

"But a serving boy to the prince of Camelot Wrecan, do not forget that," the older man reprimanded him.

This was it, Merlin thought. The time for them to give the whole 'We want revenge on Uther and his city for the suffering and pain he has caused us!' speech.

However it did not come.

"I know that, Gamol. But it does not change the fact he's still just a boy!"

Merlin felt slightly annoyed. He wasn't a child!

The older man, Gamol, sighed.

"Youth is not a crime Wrecan. It means he may be more open to our proposals."

Wrecan scowled, but said no more, and continued to glare at Merlin, who got the feeling there was something more than resentment at his youth in that glare.

Merlin turned to Hafela.

"This is it then. What is it you sent me for? What do you want me to do?"

Hafela regarded him for an instant. "We want you to be a spy for the Wandrian." He said bluntly.

Merlin was stunned for a moment, then he had the sudden urge to laugh. He had come here with the sole intention of spying on them for Camelot, and they wanted him to spy for them? It was too ridiculous for words. Only he could get himself into these situations.

Merlin however, pretended to give the matter some thought.

"And why exactly would I want to do that?"

Wrecan moved forward greedily.

"Because we want Camelot."

Merlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You want revenge?"

Hafela laughed.

"No. We do not seek retribution like other foolish sorcerers. That is far beneath us. If Uther wants to execute sorcerers, so be it. It serves them right if they are careless enough to be caught. What we want, is the city. We do not care about making Uther, or Arthur suffer, although it would be rather fun, we simply want to seize the city."

Merlin blinked. Well, it made a change.

"And why would you want Camelot when you have this realm to yourself?"

Hafela's face darkened.

"Did you not see the ravaged land as we walked in Emrys? Dark Magic makes us powerful, but it destroys the land, and that makes us weak. Dark Magic, is not like the magic of the Old Religion. It is unnatural, against nature. The Old Religion relies on the balance of the world, making sure everything is in harmony. However Dark Magic is not like that. It takes, without giving. Because it is against nature, it cannot balance itself out naturally. Instead, it relies on other sources to try and keep the world in balance. It draws from the land, killing it to sustain its power, it feed on the minds of the weak, it feeds from our own bodies!" Here Hafela paused, looking directly at Merlin. "This land cannot sustain us for much longer. The magic in the castle is dwindling, it cannot draw its power any more from the land around it. It feeds on us, increasingly ever more and more, our bodies are eroding at a much faster rate than they were before. People are dying, our numbers are dwindling. We need somewhere new, where we can start afresh. Somewhere that is already powerful, strong, and with plenty of land and people to draw upon. That place is Camelot. And you can help us get it."

Merlin stood silent, trying to comprehend all of this. They were basically asking him to be a spy for an imminent invasion force, that would seize control of Camelot, rule over it and suck it dry?

Of course, the idea was repulsive to him, he didn't even consider it. But they didn't know that. They seemed to be intent on moving on Camelot whether he helped them or not, so would it not be better to pretend to be on their side while secretly working against them? He wondered if he could handle it. He knew the power the Dark Magic had on him, he didn't know if he could continue to resist it for long. But still, he had to try. Without him Camelot was as good as lost, he needed to work against them, and what better way to do it than from within?

He stalled for time. "And what benefits would I receive?"

"For one, once we have control over the city, you will be free. You need no longer be a servant, you can practise your magic without fear and shame. No longer will you be put upon, looked down on. You will rise above them all, one of the leaders of the city you helped to overrun. And in the meantime, there are many things we could teach you."

"I will not learn Dark Magic." Merlin retorted immediately.

Hafela smiled.

"No, unfortunately that is something we cannot persuade you to do. But there are many other forms we can teach you, things you will have never dreamed of, if you will only give us the chance. It is time you joined with us Emrys, instead of shunning your own kind. You belong with people like yourself."

Merlin thought. He couldn't say he wasn't tempted, any opportunity to learn magic was appealing to him, and if it wasn't Dark Magic, what harm could it do? He was almost certain now he could keep up his charade of loyalty to them. How hard could it be? Still, if experience had taught him anything, he shouldn't go rushing into things.

He looked directly at Hafela.

"There is much that you ask. I will take time to consider it."

Hafela nodded.

"Come to us tomorrow night by the light of the moon to inform us of your decision. We trust it will be the right one." He added. Almost menacingly.

Merlin looked at each one of them in turn.

"I will return."

* * *

Lancelot paced the courtyard frantically, as the sun began to rise. There had been no news from Merlin and he was beginning to panic. The promise he had made to Gwen rested heavily on his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to keep it, but how could he trace a man who had disappeared using magic? Instead, he had to stay in the city, _waiting_ for him to return. He felt completely useless.

Worry clouded his mind. _Why_ would Merlin take off like that in the middle of the night? Did he have a death wish? He had seen Merlin earlier the previous day, he had been a mess, weak, ill, what chance did he stand against Dark sorcerers like that? Ones who evidently wanted him dead?

He was so preoccupied in his tormented musings he didn't notice a solitary figure enter the courtyard and walk towards him.

"Up all night?"

Lancelot looked up in shock at Merlin's voice, hardly daring to believe it. But there he was, standing in front of him, tired, pale, but alive.

"Merlin!" Lancelot breathed, relief rushing over him. Then annoyance crept in. "Where the hell have you been?"

Merlin smiled weakly.

"I had a little chat with some Dark sorcerers."

Lancelot stared at him.

"They didn't try to kill you?"

"Nope. They want me to work for them, as a spy so they can take over Camelot."

He said it so calmly Lancelot was sure he hadn't heard him correctly.

"You are joking aren't you?"

Merlin shook his head.

"But what did they do when you said no?"

Merlin bit his lip.

"Ah...you see, I _didn't _say no."

Lancelot was perplexed.

"What on earth are you on about Merlin?"

"I'm going to be a spy for _us, _while pretending to be a spy for _them_."

Lancelot was still confused. But he didn't care.

"You can't go back Merlin. It's too dangerous, you couldn't be a spy to save your life! This Dark Magic is better left alone."

Merlin shook his head.

"I can't escape it. It'll always be there Lancelot don't you see? I'll go mad if I keep on ignoring it. I have to embrace it full on, not using it, but fighting it. Not giving myself up to it. It's the only way. Otherwise it'll just haunt me forever."

Lancelot couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Are you mad Merlin? You can't join a group of Dark sorcerers! They'll find you out, they'll kill you, they'll betray you to Arthur, they could poison your mind against us! You can't go back!"

Merlin's eyes flashed.

"So you think I'm capable of betraying Arthur? You think these sorcerers will somehow change my mind about my loyalty to Camelot? Who do you think I am?" He was shouting now.

Lancelot tried to reason with him.

"I'm not suggesting you'd willingly betray him Merlin, but you know what this magic does to you! You can't tell what it could make you do!"

Merlin looked at him in uncharacteristic anger.

"Well I'm glad you have so much faith in me Lancelot."

"Merlin-" Lancelot pleaded, laying his hand on Merlin's arm, but Merlin shook it off.

"Don't you think I know what I'm getting myself into? I'm doing it for all of you. And I'd be willing risk my life or my sanity if I knew it could protect you."

And with that he stalked off, towards Gaius' chambers, no doubt for some heart-to-heart advice. Lancelot sighed heavily.

Merlin certainly was stubborn.

He just hoped he knew what he was doing.

* * *

In the castle, Hafela gazed out of the ruined window over the ruined land he presided over. His dark eyes fell on everything, from the simple little dwellings, to the Forest of No Life, to the entrance gateway, where Emrys had passed through just hours earlier returning to Camelot. Hafela smiled. The plan was now set in motion.

"Did you think that a wise choice, Hafela?"

He turned, and saw Gamol, shuffling towards him, his back even more crooked than his own.

"What was?"

"Sending for Emrys."

Hafela turned back to the window, annoyed. He had just had the same discussion with Wrecan.

"He is widely known to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. It is prudent to have him on our side."

"But _is _he on our side?"

Hafela turned again, to see Gamol searching his eyes.

He spoke again: "The lad had great power, I can see that certainly. But he also has a loyalty to Camelot, to the prince. All the prophecies say so."

Hafela scoffed.

"You know I pay no attention to prophecy Gamol. I only searched for Emrys because I had heard _actual _tales of his deeds, _not_ written in prophecy, that prove his power. I sensed that power when I met him just to be sure. I am certain what they say is true. Killing Nimueh, mastering the power of life and death, confining Sigan, controlling the Great Dragon, destroying an entire immortal army...his deeds speak for themselves."

"And how do you know all of this?"

"The Druids have many spies."

"The Druids would never inform a Dark sorcerer of these things."

Hafela smirked. "I did not say they told me willingly."

Gamol cackled. "But you cannot deny, Emrys has shown extreme loyalty to the prince."

Hafela frowned. "I know. But we will soon rid him of that."

"How?"

"Why do you think I have really been sending him those symbols? Why do you think I brought him to this castle, the focal point of our power? The Dark Magic is affecting him, more so than he knows, and before long he will be consumed by it, without even realising. He _will _be ours."

"But he said he did not wish to learn Dark Magic."

Hafela's eyes shone in malice.

"Very soon he will have no choice. Before he knows it, he will be once of us."

Hafela turned to gaze out the window once more.

"It has already begun."

* * *

**A/N: Not really sure about this chapter :/ Introducing OC is so hard!**

**Anyways, review please, coz I just love getting them! I try and reply to as many as possible, but I'm just way too busy. And for those of you who were wondering, more Knights of Camelot WILL be getting included, including, hopefully, Gwaine next chapter!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Sorry for not updating sooner! I really have no excuse other than the fact that it's the Easter holidays (Wooo!), or 'Spring Break' as we're supposed to call it now, and the fact my HP and the Deathly Hallows DVD arrived yesterday I've spent all my free time watching it! Anyways, hope you enjoy! :D**

* * *

**- Trust-**

"_Merlin_. You absolute _doughball._ What is wrong with you today?"

Arthur sighed in exasperation as once again, Merlin managed to drop his armour with a clattering sound on the stone stairs within five minutes of the last time it had happened.

"Sorry, sire." Merlin muttered hastily and scrambled to pick it all up again, the usual energy with which he normally moved gone. Arthur watched him carefully. Having Merlin around that day was against his better judgement. After all, only the day before Merlin had been lying deathly pale in bed, weak as a kitten. However, that morning Merlin had shown up for work, insistent, despite Arthur telling him to go home and rest. His face had been drawn and haggard and it didn't seem as though he had gotten any sleep, but he stubbornly refused to leave. Arthur was confused beyond measure, but he hoped some of the normal routine of the day would re-energise his servant.

Merlin's arms seemed to shake as he lifted some of the heavier pieces and Arthur stepped forward.

"Give me those. I don't want any more dents in them. This is gold-plated you know, worth more than you!"

Merlin smiled gratefully, knowing why Arthur had really taken them off him. But Arthur didn't acknowledge it, after all, he couldn't appear to be going soft.

They made their way down the steps again, out for some training with the Knights. His spirit sank as he thought of the monumental task ahead of him. The other Knights, the ones who had served him for years, weren't exactly embracing the new Knights. To them it seemed, nobody commoners had just stormed in, with no training, no years of service, no seal of nobility, and had just been _gifted_ the distinction of being a Knight, something they had had to work for for years. Arthur had hoped they would find it within themselves to welcome them, after all, it had been them who had offered their services to Arthur and helped him reclaim Camelot and free the other Knights from the dungeons in which they had been incarcerated. But trying to get them all to work together was proving,well, difficult. The old Knights just didn't seem to want to welcome the new ones, or "The Knights of the Round Table" as they had recently taken to calling themselves. Arthur rolled his eyes. What a ridiculous name. Gwaine had to be behind it.

Still, he was determined. He had to end this silly prejudice. Gwaine, Elyan, and the rest had all proved themselves more than worthy of the honour of the title "Knight of Camelot", and Arthur knew that that was what was truly important, not some meaningless title of 'Lord' or 'Sir". That didn't define a man. Only his deeds did.

They emerged out into the bright sunlight, and Merlin's face was shown into sharp relief. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his face appeared gaunt, almost lifeless. His eyes however were focused, though not on the present moment, almost as if he was completely lost in his own thoughts, concentrating fiercely on something else. Arthur had given up trying to find out what.

He hadn't been serious the previous day when he had told Merlin to come back to work that morning. But Merlin was adamant. Arthur could tell that there was no physical illness ailing Merlin. It was something else entirely. He just wished he knew what.

They made their way to the training grounds, Arthur throwing concerned glances at Merlin every so often. But Merlin didn't falter, despite his evident exhaustion.

A surprised cry greeted them, and Arthur looked around to see Gwen running towards them her arms outstretched. He smiled, expecting her to run to him, but instead she threw her arms around Merlin, almost knocking him off his feet. Arthur tried not to be feel put out.

"Oh Merlin! Are you all right? Where have you been?" She looked into his face, her eyes wide.

Arthur frowned.

"I thought he'd been staying with you!"

Merlin looked sheepish.

"I was. But I left last night."

"In the _middle _of the night! Merlin I was so worried! Where did you go?"

"Just out for a walk, I needed fresh air. Then I went to Gaius'."

However Merlin avoided her eyes when he said this, and Arthur found himself in disbelief.

"I'll go to the training ground and get set up then shall I sire?" Merlin mumbled.

Arthur nodded, still watching him carefully, and Merlin made off quite hurriedly. Yep, he was _definitely _avoiding confrontation.

Gwen stood and watched him, shaking her head.

"There's more to it than that. He was so ill! He was delirious, feverish, there's no way he could've just gotten up and left like that! Even Lancelot was worried."

Arthur snapped his head around to look at her.

"Lancelot? He was with you?"

Gwen looked at him warily.

"Well, yes. After I found Merlin had gone I ran out into the street looking for him. Lancelot found me and said he would look for him."

Arthur nodded, trying to squash the uneasy feeling he had. Was it _jealously?_ He shook it off. He was being ridiculous.

Gwen still looked worried, but as she turned to leave, Arthur caught hold of her arm.

"Don't worry about him Guinevere. I'll look out for him." He reached down and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and a smile in reassurance. She blushed slightly and looked up at him fondly before her eyes went wide as she looked behind him.

"Lancelot!"

Arthur wheeled around and saw Lancelot standing behind him, an odd expression on his face as he noted their proximity. He nodded to Gwen, and turned to Arthur, his expression now closed.

"Can I speak with you Arthur?"

Arthur nodded and moved reluctantly away from Gwen, who gave his arm a quick squeeze before hurrying away. Lancelot's eyes followed her. Arthur tried not to notice.

"What is it?"

Lancelot looked back at him.

"It's Merlin."

Arthur sighed.

"I know. There's something going on with him, I just don't know what."

Lancelot said nothing, but looked uncomfortable. Arthur's suspicion rose.

"_You _don't know what's wrong with him do you?"

Lancelot looked surprised and hesitated before answering.

"No of course not, he won't say anything to anyone That's what's worrying me, I think he feels like he _can't_."

Arthur thought this through. It was true, Merlin never divulged anything to Arthur, any of his fears, his doubts, secrets. He'd never questioned this before, after all, at the beginning, he'd never expected it;servants weren't supposed to be close to their masters, and after a time, he just came to accept this as part of who Merlin was. For the most part, Merlin was a mystery.

"I see your point Lancelot, but we can't force him to talk to us. He'll come around eventually, he always does. It is _Merlin _after all, he's never upset for long."

Lancelot still looked grave.

"I fear this is something much worse. I dread to think what is happening to him."

He bowed slightly and turned and walked towards the training field where Gwaine and Elyan were fighting, leaving Arthur standing still, confused.

He knew Merlin was upset, but was it really as bad as Lancelot was suggesting? Arthur knew that Lancelot and Merlin were quite close, was there something Merlin had confided to him that he couldn't tell him? He hoped there wasn't. Merlin should know by now that he could trust him. Was Lancelot just being paranoid?

He resumed his walk to the training field, where Gwaine had just successfully disarmed Elyan and forced him to the ground for good measure.

Arthur knew he would have to keep an extra close eye on Merlin from now on.

* * *

"Ha! Do you yield?" Gwaine breathed heavily, laughing.

Elyan's sweaty face looked up at him, eyeing the sword now hovering over his throat.

"Do I have a choice?"

Gwaine laughed, lowered his sword and pulled him to his feet.

"You'll never have a choice Elyan as long as you're fighting me."

Elyan shook his head, grinning, retrieving his sword from where Gwaine had managed to deflect it with his own blade. As good as Elyan was with a sword, he had only ever learned by teaching himself with the blades he made for a living, he had little experience in fighting actual battles with people with extensive training. Gwaine hoped to change that. The other Knights had looked scornfully down at Elyan when they had managed to defeat him several times in a row the other day and Gwaine was not about to stand back and watch as they ridiculed him. He would prove to them that commoners were just as good as Knights.

Elyan returned, still panting heavily. "Do you ever take anything seriously Gwaine?"

"Of course not, where's the fun in that?"

Elyan laughed again.

"There are several deadly sorcerers out to destroy the kingdom at this very moment. Doesn't that concern you?"

Gwaine thought for a moment.

"Nah. I'm more concerned for you. You really do fight like a girl sometimes."

Elyan gasped in mock horror.

"You'll pay for that one Gwaine."

"Ha! I'd like to see you try!"

They stared each other down for a few moments.

"Re-match?"

Gwaine grinned.

"Maybe later. You need to catch your breath before you collapse like a daisy."

Elyan shook his head, before moving off to change weapons, casting him a definite 'I'll get you later' look.

It was then that Gwaine saw Merlin, bent over a table of armour and weapons sorting through them carefully.

_What was he doing here?_

Gwaine had visited him in Gwen's house the previous day, whilst he was in the midst of his fever. There was no way he could have recovered that quickly. He'd also seen Gwen that morning, fretting over him as he'd seemingly vanished. Then all of a sudden he just turns up for a normal day's work?

Gwaine made to go over to him, but stopped as Lancelot walked up to him, speaking urgently. Merlin looked up at him evenly, before shaking his head and turning away. Lancelot tried to stop him, but Merlin shook off the hand that held his arm and ignored his pleas.

Lancelot sank a little, and turned to leave looking distressed. He caught sight of Gwaine and nodded to him, and Gwaine nodded in return, intrigued by what had just occurred.

As soon as Lancelot had left, Gwaine made his way cautiously to Merlin.

"So Merlin, you rejoined the land of the living?"

Merlin span around looking tense but relaxed at the sight of him.

"What's the matter, worried it was Lancelot again?"

Merlin bit his lip, but didn't answer, Gwaine took this as confirmation.

Merlin turned his head slightly watching Lancelot's retreating form.

"It's just- he keeps on at me. Asking if I'm all right."

"He's just worried about you Merlin, we all are." Gwaine moved closer. "I heard you went walk-about last night and Lancelot went to find you."

Merlin's eyes darkened.

"I just had to go for a walk."

"In the middle of the night? During a curfew?"

"I just had to get away! Away from everything and everyone!" Merlin's voice rose and he looked haunted.

Gwaine nodded slightly, understanding.

"You felt trapped."

Merlin bowed his head.

Gwaine moved closer, looking at him closely, lowering his voice.

"How are you Merlin? Truly?"

Merlin met his eyes.

"I'm loads better thanks." He answered tonelessly.

It was true that he looked better, he looked semi-human at least, but there was still something in his eyes that Gwaine didn't like.

"You know whatever it is you can trust me Merlin."

Merlin looked suddenly annoyed and his voice rose.

"There's nothing to tell Gwaine! I'm fine!"

Gwaine countered: "There's something bothering you Merlin and I want to know what it is!"

Merlin looked away.

"I can't tell you."

Gwaine's voice rose in frustration. "But you can tell Lancelot, is that it? What can you tell him that you can't tell me? Am I any less trustworthy?"

Merlin sighed in exasperation. "That's not it Gwaine!"

"I'm not a fool Merlin. There's something he knows that I don't!"

Merlin's mouth opened and closed, at a loss.

"There's just some things Lancelot knows that no one else does!"

"So there _is_ something you're keeping from me? What is it the two of you can know that I can't? I'm your friend Merlin!"

"I know Gwaine, I know!" Merlin closed his eyes, and looked fatigued beyond all measure. "Just _please _understand. There are some things I just can't tell you. Lancelot only knows by accident. It's not that I trust him any more than I do you."

"Then why not tell me?"

Merlin looked at him for one long moment.

"I-I just _can't _Gwaine. I'm sorry."

Gwaine nodded, realising this was the most he would get out of him. "Fine. Just know Merlin: I'm your friend as well. You _can _trust me."

Merlin looked pained, but Gwaine turned away, trying not to feel hurt. Why couldn't Merlin just trust him? Did he think he would judge him or not understand?

Gwaine just hoped Merlin would learn to trust him before it was too late.

"Oi Elyan! What about that re-match?"

* * *

Merlin's hands shook as he looked down at the armour before him, trying to fight the rising despair within him. He knew they all just cared about him and were concerned, but the endless questions from Gaius, Arthur, Lancelot and now Gwaine were causing him pain.

They all accused him of not trusting them, of locking himself away. He knew this was true, but how was he supposed to confide in them? He trusted them all with his life, but he just couldn't share this with them. Even Gaius and Lancelot who knew more than most, he found he couldn't talk to. They thought he was crazy for willingly associating himself with the Dark Magic, and maybe he was. But he had to do this for all their sakes; why couldn't they understand that?

He had decided already. He was going to return, that night, to the Wandrian, the Dark sorcerers, and accept their offer. They were intent on seizing the kingdom, and Merlin knew Camelot needed an ally on the inside.

The power of the Dark Magic was no longer affecting him as much as it had been. He felt, _lighter_, almost. He hadn't realised what a burden it had been. He was no longer as weak as he had been, but his thoughts were still haunted by the previous night's meeting. He was going over and over it again and again. Was he making the right choice? Would he be able to resist the Dark Magic?

He had bore up reasonably well last night. Picturing the faces of the people he cared about had offered him some relief from the strong pull of the magic, but it had been at the cost of some extreme effort. Then there had been those visions he had had while entering the castle. Scenes from the hardest times of his life, as though they had been deliberately thrust into his mind to drive him mad. And that crazed old man who had raved about conflict and temptation, and that this path would lead to a death. Merlin wanted nothing more than to never go back there. But he knew he still had to do this.

He hated seeing their faces, when he refused to talk to them. The hurt, the betrayal as he didn't confide in them. He hated lying to them, telling them everything was fine when his thoughts threatened to overwhelm him. But he was doing this for them, and he had to remind himself of that fact. Camelot was surely doomed if he didn't go back. He had to find out as much as he could. He owed them that. He wished they could understand.

He saw Arthur coming towards him, concern once again on his face, evidently about to question him again. He sighed. He hated making them worry.

He had to try and act normal. Get through the day until he could once again meet with Hafela, the rotten leader of the Wandrian. Wait until Gaius was asleep and once again sneak out to meet them. After his arrival home that morning Gaius had been _seriously _angry, and had forbidden him to return. But Merlin had to. Gaius had managed to remove the symbols burned into the floor, how, he didn't know, but he was obviously determined that Merlin shouldn't go back. Not that it would stop him. Now he had been to the clearing that marked the boundary to their realm he would be able to get there without the aid of the symbols. He had a sneaking suspicion Gaius was going to try and seal him in his bedroom with magic that night, which had miraculously been scrubbed clean of the bloody symbols that had blighted it, or at least stay up all night to prevent him from leaving. Merlin had already racked his mind for a simple poultice he could make to hide under Gaius' pillow that night to put him into a deep, dreamless sleep. He despised himself for even considering this, but it was the only way. He needed to get back to them. Gaius had to understand.

He looked around at the Knights who were training fiercely, all deeply concerned with the new magical threat to the kingdom. Merlin smiled wryly. Swords and crossbows would not help them against Dark Magic. He was their only hope. And they didn't know it.

He watched as Elyan struck out at Gwaine, sending his sword flying through the air and triumphantly holding his own over Gwaine's chest. Merlin frowned. Gwaine was _never _beaten in single-combat unless it was against Arthur or Lancelot.

Gwaine turned to look at him. And Merlin realised: Gwaine was still worried about him. Merlin felt guilt weighing heavily on him. He didn't want to inflict this upon them. But it was for their own good. They'd realise that in the end. He had to protect them.

* * *

Gwaine saw Merlin watching him. What he wouldn't give to find out what was going on in that head of his. Elyan crowed triumphantly, not realising Gwaine had never really been focused in the fight. He let him. He would find out what was troubling Merlin if it killed him.

He found himself sitting in the courtyard, hours later, the moon overhead, thinking furiously. What could it be? According to Arthur, Merlin had been feeling ill even before they had found out about the sorcerers and the new 'Emrys' threat, so that couldn't be what was bothering him. Was it just the pressure of the last few weeks that was finally getting to him? Was it something else entirely?

Gwaine sighed and buried his head in his hands, trying to block out his teeming thoughts.

Quick footsteps echoing over the courtyard drew his attention, and Gwaine looked up to see Lancelot off somewhere in a hurry, his head darting around looking out. He had not seen Gwaine, sitting there motionless in the dark. Gwaine's suspicion was immediately aroused. Where was he off to?

Gwaine stood up slowly, and began to follow, keeping to the shadows, as silently as he could. Lancelot was edgy, continually stopping and looking from side-to-side, to check for pursuers. Fortunately for Gwaine, he did not see him, lurking in the shadows. Gwaine didn't like following him like this, despite the fact he and Lancelot had not bonded immediately, he didn't like feeling suspicious of someone Merlin and Arthur trusted so deeply, who was obviously a good man. He must have a good reason for sneaking around this late.

Lancelot continued his brisk walk, until suddenly he stopped and stood completely still, staring. Gwaine ducked into a doorway, and watched. He suddenly realised where they were: not far from Gaius and Merlin's chambers.

Lancelot made no move and no sound, just stood there for what seemed the longest time. Gwaine became impatient. What was he here for? Was he meeting Merlin, or just making sure he didn't go off again somewhere? Gwaine wished he knew.

It hurt him slightly that Merlin trusted Lancelot more than him. He tried not to heed it, after all, Merlin and Lancelot had known each other for years, obviously there were things they had shared in the past that Gwaine didn't know about. But still, Merlin had no reason not to trust him. Gwaine had trusted him with the secret of his own nobility, why couldn't Merlin do the same? He thought harder. Merlin had trusted him to the extent that he had asked him for help to save Arthur during his mission to the Perilous Lands and to not say anything about it, had trusted him enough to tell him about his and Arthur's quest to find the Cup of Life, to retake Camelot with the other Knights, but this different. Gwaine could tell, the thing Merlin was concealing was no ordinary secret. It was something huge, bigger than anything else, something that would change everything completely forever. Something which could potentially change Gwaine's opinion of him. He couldn't guess at what it could be. He was certain that nothing Merlin was hiding would make him think any less of him, but the thought Merlin was hiding something so huge disturbed him. Was it something bad? Something hurtful? Something painful?

Gwaine musings however were disrupted by the sound of soft footsteps coming down a staircase. Lancelot shifted slightly, and became more attentive. Then Merlin emerged from the doorway and stopped at the sight of Lancelot.

The look on his face said plainly to Gwaine that this meeting was not welcome.

"What are you doing here Lancelot?"

"Trying to stop you from doing something stupid Merlin!"

Merlin scowled.

"I told you this morning, I know what I'm doing."

"I don't think you do Merlin. This is far bigger than you realise. I don't want you to get in over your head."

"I won't!"

"How can I know that Merlin? You have no idea what you're letting yourself in for!"

"What, and you do? Tell me, just how many times have you been in my position?"

"That's beside the point Merlin! I don't want you to risk your life like this!"

Gwaine stiffened. What was going on? Why would Merlin be in danger?

"If not my life then whose? All of Camelot will suffer if I don't do this!"

Gwaine was now beyond confused.

"Merlin, this is a bad idea-"

"No! Why can't you just let me make my own decisions! I know what you're afraid will happen, I am too. I know the risks, I know what they could do to me. But I have to do this! If you knew that your actions could save those you care about wouldn't you do it, despite what may happen?"

Lancelot fell silent.

"See. I do know what I'm letting myself in for. I know this is going to be difficult. But I'm prepared for it. And I'm going to do it with your blessing or not."

"Merlin, please, I'm begging you. Don't go."

Merlin looked at him, hurt in his eyes.

"Then I guess it's without."

He spun on his heel and strode off, blending into the shadows, disappearing into the dark so effectively Gwaine couldn't have followed him if he'd tried. Lancelot watched him go, before sighing heavily and turning and walking off in the opposite direction, leaving Gwaine in the dark.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

Half an hour later, Merlin entered the great hall that served as the headquarters of the Wandrian, his heart beating wildly.

Three shadowy figures drew closer to him, leering out of the darkness. Merlin stood his ground, ignoring the stench of death that emanated from them, thinking only of his friends and of what he was doing for them.

Hafela stepped forward, his black eyes glinted in the light of the moon that seeped in through the cracks in the wall.

"Well?"

Merlin stepped forward and looked directly into those terrible eyes.

"I will join you."

* * *

**A/N: Oooohhh...exciting stuff coming. Sorry if it seems as though it's taking forever, but I like to really lay out the characters and their relationships first. Characterisation is important to me, maybe it's the Psychology course I'm doing? Which reminds me, I have a Psychology NAB soon and a bunch of other exams so I may not be able to update frequently**. **Then again, I'm not one to ignore a heap of reviews...hint hint... :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Thanks and massive hugs to everyone alerting and reviewing! Really makes my day! :D**

**Yeah, I caved. Exam revision has NOTHING on the epicness of Merlin! XD Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

** Nightmare or prophecy?**

The clanging of metal against metal rang through the air, and Merlin winced as Arthur delivered a heavy blow upon the helm of some poor unfortunate Knight, who crumpled to the ground, dropping his sword in pain.

In times gone by, Arthur would have let out a triumphant cry and boasted of his victory for hours to come, but now he was subdued, and did not seem in the mood to celebrate. Since the new threats of sorcerers had become evident, Arthur had spent almost every available moment on the training field with his Knights, determined that they should be ready for every eventuality. However, a lot of the new recruits were not rising to the challenge.

It didn't matter anyway, Merlin thought, what use were swords and armour against Dark Magic?

It seemed also, that Arthur knew of this unpleasant fact, but still he pressed on, believing that constant training would bolster the Knight's confidence in their own abilities, despite the obvious truth that no amount of training in the world could prepare them for what lay ahead.

It had been two days since Merlin's last visit to the Wandrian, when he had accepted their offer, and already he felt much better. The traces of the magic upon him were almost gone and he felt free and light, unburdened by the dark thoughts that came with contact with such magic. He felt new hope; that with training and discipline, resisting the allure of the Dark Magic would not be so hard as he had originally anticipated.

However, both visits to their realm, had lain on him heavily for hours afterwards, and during the time the magic was affecting him he felt like death itself; weak, fragile, angry, upset, even downright evil. It was always a relief to get back to Camelot, like a breath of fresh air, as though he had been drowning, immersed in heavy, dark water and then suddenly finding himself above the surface again.

He had only just recovered from that visit, and was already dreading his next.

The visit had been short. He had told them he had accepted their offer, and they had given him the usual '_You won't regret this, it__ is your destiny'_, speech and gave the customary evil cackles which had sent shivers down his spine. Then they had given him very clear instructions: "_Listen Emrys. Listen to all that goes in within the walls of Camelot, and remember. Any tiny detail might be of use to us in our mission to overthrow the city. Use your position wisely, use your knowledge of the castle. We await your return. We anticipate it greatly."_

Well, at least they were direct.

Merlin had indeed listened, to Arthur, and all the other Knights as they gathered, whether in the Council Chambers or in taverns, he had listened. Listened for any tiny scrap of detail he could give to the Wandrian which would make him seem useful, without compromising the city. It was proving to be difficult.

Aside from the fact that most Knights liked to argue all day over who had won a particular sparring match, or who had the fastest horse, all of which bored Merlin beyond reason, very little they said was of any use. When they weren't debating the intricacies of their own self-indulged lives they seemed content to constantly debate over the new threat of sorcery, and wonder who 'Emrys' was. And that was something which certainly wasn't new to the Wandrian.

He strained his memory for any insignificant little detail he might pass on. He knew he shouldn't have accepted this job, spying was definitely not his strong point. Despite the fact he was about as subtle as a horse, he could never manage to hear anything that was remotely useful. Although, he _did_ manage to hear some absolutely _fascinating _information about who was bedding who, who owed who money, and the finer details of the constant argument over whether the newly born son of Lord Dreogan looked less like his father as opposed to the mother's 'personal friend' Sir Fyren.

Court politics were complex, but none of it was important enough to warrant reporting back on. As far as he knew Arthur was not planning any 'surprise attacks' on any sorcerers in the near future, or was planning any kind of military manoeuvre whatsoever, so warning them of any action was out of the window. He supposed when he met them again he would just have to 'wing it' as Gwaine would say.

At that moment Arthur came striding over to him, fuming. Merlin hurriedly put his guard up, he did _not _want to cross Arthur when he was in a bad mood.

"Can you believe that?" He declared as soon as he was close enough. "None of them are fighters worth a damn! How are we supposed to retain our reputation for having the best Knights in the land when we're training rubbish like that?"

"Well, does it really matter? Do you honestly think you can stab a spell and stop it in its path, or that a sorcerer would stand still and let you get close enough to kill them?" It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself, he was just so frustrated at Arthur's blind insistence that strength in arms would defeat sorcerers.

Arthur gave him a dangerous look. "Don't pretend that you know anything about magic Merlin."

Merlin sighed inwardly. If only...

"I know enough to know that weapons like these are no use!"

Arthur looked at him, and his anger faded, and he looked worried.

"I know, I know...but what would you have me do? Give up? Fighting is the only defence we know, so we must maintain that, even if it's no good. Would you rather I have my Knights trained in magic?"

Merlin grumbled.

"Well, it would help a bit."

"Don't be ridiculous Merlin, I've no time for jokes." Arthur dismissed, before sweeping off to some new recruit who, even Merlin could tell, was holding his sword wrongly.

Merlin sighed, little did Arthur know, he had genuinely been being serious.

Thankfully, everyone had started to lay off him, now that he had perked up a bit. Although he had felt terrible after his last visit to the Wandrian, he had put on a brave face, and tried to go back to acting the way he usually did; as an idiot. He couldn't handle their constant 'How are you?'s and 'Are you all right?'s, so he hid his pain and torment from them as best he could. He was after all an expert at hiding things he didn't want others to know about. As soon as he had gotten back to his usual chatty, gibbering idiotic self, people began to relax and were fooled into thinking he was back to normal. Even Gwen and Arthur had visibly relaxed and had started to worry less about him, although he could tell they were still suspicious. And of course, there was no fooling Gaius and Lancelot.

Gaius had never stopped complaining about it, citing Merlin's stupidity again and again, telling him he was a fool for getting involved, but he didn't make any moves to try and stop him from what he was planning. He seemed to resign himself to it, and it pained Merlin that he was hurting Gaius in this way, who had been a father to him in every way possible.

Lancelot had stopped badgering him as well, although that may be due to the fact Merlin had been acting much happier and looking much better recently, but Merlin still suspected that Lancelot watched the door to his chambers every night in case he tried to sneak out again. He wished Lancelot could just understand. Their argument the night he had met again with the Wandrian disturbed him, and he hated being at odds with Lancelot, who so obviously had his best interests at heart. But still, he would not be swayed from what he had to do.

Strangely enough, Merlin had also noticed Gwaine watching him rather closely the last couple of days. He rarely let Merlin be alone, found excuses to walk him places and laugh and joke with him, all the while asking him subtle questions about his well being. Merlin supposed this was just Gwaine's new method of trying to find out what had been troubling him, but something else bothered him. Gwaine knew him extremely well, despite the fact they had not known each other as long as himself and Lancelot, nor knew all of his secrets. The way he looked at Merlin bespoke of something deeper, he _knew _something, and Merlin dreaded what it was. Although Lancelot knew more of his secrets, Gwaine probably knew his character better than anyone, and he knew there was something big he was concealing. The subtle leading questions said as much. Merlin could tell Gwaine was just biding his time, waiting it out, hoping that Merlin would tell him on his own. And sometimes Merlin considered it. But how? How could he reveal something like that to him, even as much as he trusted him not to tell. He knew Gwaine would not say anything, would not judge him or hate him, but still something held him back. As though some innate force was telling him '_not yet'._ He decided to listen to it for the moment.

As he had just finished thinking this, Gwaine himself walked up to him, sweat on his brow, lopsided grin on his face.

"Whew! Bring on these sorcerers I say!"

Merlin smiled wryly.

"Yeah, I'm sure the ten second resistance the Knights can offer will really make them quake in their boots."

"Why do you always have to be such a pessimist Merlin?" Gwaine chuckled.

Merlin didn't answer.

Gwaine came and sat beside him on the bench at the side of the training field, breathing heavily and together they watched the training of the Knights in silence. Merlin resigned himself to the fact Gwaine would once again start plying him with some subtle questions in a moment and readied himself for it. But Gwaine didn't say anything for a long while.

Together they watched Elyan as he fought an older Knight, who Merlin recognised as one of the most vocal in the expression of outrage at Arthur's appointment of commoner Knights. Elyan struck out again and again, fast as lightning, ducking and dodging, quick on his feet, whirling around, his sword flashing in the afternoon sun, in a hypnotising dance through the air. Eventually, the elder Knight's sword went flying from his hand, and Elyan grabbed it from mid-air and held both swords at the Knight's undefended chest, a huge smile of satisfaction spreading over his features.

Gwaine whooped and cheered, clapping boisterously, while the other Knights looked on disapprovingly. Gwaine nudged Merlin: "I taught him that you know."

Merlin laughed, a genuine laugh that he hadn't had for days. Gwaine just had a way of dispelling all your worries and cares, everything seemed so much simpler with him around.

The Knight Elyan had just defeated looked murderous as he took his sword back from Elyan and stalked off when Elyan offered him a smug bow. Gwaine sniggered.

"Nobility, eh? It's a wonder they can walk upright with the weight of heads as big as theirs on their shoulders."

Merlin grinned.

"Nobility like yourself?"

Gwaine winked.

"I'm a special case. I'm noble by birth, but I managed to avoid all the mollycoddling and pampering that nobility usually get, _and _managed to end up a Knight anyway! Just goes to say, you can earn nobility just as well as being born with it."

"You know you'd save a lot of hassle for yourself if you just came out and said it."

Gwaine cast Merlin a significant look here.

"Maybe, but I don't want people to think that's the only reason I have this title. I want them to know that nobility is something which we can all have. And coming out and saying I was noble all along wouldn't exactly go far to proving that." Gwaine spoke soberly. Then he grinned. "That's why I'm a _secret_ noble, Merlin."

Merlin laughed.

"Don't worry, I'm good at keeping secrets."

Gwaine turned to look at him, all hilarity forgotten and watched him carefully.

"Is that so?"

Merlin felt this was straying into dangerous territory, and squirmed uncomfortably under Gwaine's intense stare. So before Gwaine could start trying to inquire further, he blurted out:

"Well obviously. Working in the palace household means there are a lot of things that have to be kept secret. You wouldn't believe half the stuff I hear from the gossip in the kitchens."

Gwaine grinned.

"Perhaps I might. I'm pretty sure I'm the subject of some of that gossip, am I not?"

Merlin didn't answer. He was right. Gwaine's arrival in Camelot had sent the serving girls into a frenzy as it seemed Gwaine's aim in life was to shamelessly flirt with each and every one of them. But he wasn't about to tell Gwaine that.

He smiled slyly.

"Perhaps."

He stood up to leave, satisfied that he had avoided any uncomfortable questions, though he knew he had not managed to fool Gwaine for one instant.

"I'd better go, Gaius said he needed some help today." He didn't mention that Gaius too was about to try and weasel some information out of him.

Gwaine nodded, and Merlin saw something akin to disappointment in his eyes.

"Me too, I suppose. Arthur's got a lot of stuff he needs sorting out and I said I'd help a bit. I need to send a message to the outer villages and order what's to be brought on the supply wagon tomorrow morning. Grain, grain and more grain probably. Since Morgana's army razed the crops in Camelot we're a bit short of food supplies. Better be off then."

He stood up and clapped Merlin on the shoulder, before striding off towards the palace, leaving Merlin standing stock-still in the training grounds, a sudden idea forming.

_Supply wagons?_

* * *

"Grain?" Wrecan repeated dully. "The best result of your spying mission in Camelot is _grain_?"

Merlin fought to keep his temper. Blasting one of the leaders of the Wandrian would not serve him well.

"Yes, grain. If you want to strike out at the heart of a kingdom then strike out at their stomachs." Merlin's voice remained cold, and he kept his face as passive as he could.

Hafela watched him curiously, his black eyes glinting. They were seated in the great hall of the castle in the realm of the Wandrian, at a large ornate table covered in layer after layer of cobwebs. The room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the remains of the windows, falling on the table and the people seated around it. The whole room pulsed with innate evil, and Merlin had to fight with all his strength not to succumb to it. As it was, his temper was already shorter than it usually was, but he fought to control himself.

Hafela said nothing, neither did aged Gamol who sat with one hand lying flat on the table, the stump on his other hand stretched out next to it, leading Merlin to think had he had both his hands they would have been clasped together in silent contemplation. He made no move to speak.

Wrecan looked from one to the other.

"Is this the best we can hope for from the legendary Emrys? Grain! Is he serious?"

Hafela smiled slightly, blood oozing from his mouth from the rotten flesh within.

"Explain further to us, Emrys."

Merlin tried not to flinch as the stench of death once again reached him from Hafela's direction and looked at him squarely, resisting the urge to retch.

"I was in Camelot once before when there was famine. People panicked, hoarded, looted, it was chaos. It took very little to rile them into panic. Without a steady supply of food, they will rise up, there will no longer be stability in the city, they will be afraid. Arthur will find it very difficult to control his own people. The city will be weakened dramatically if the people lose faith in their rulers."

Wrecan stopped looking resentful and instead looked grudgingly thoughtful. Merlin smiled, this was going well. Still, Hafela and Gamol said nothing.

Wrecan seemed determined to find flaw in his plan however.

"So what do you suggest we do then? Steal _all _of the grain?"

"There are supply wagons entering the city everyday from the outer villages, where Morgana's army didn't manage to plunder. Camelot are now dependent on these transports. Without the grain, there is little else to eat, everything else was destroyed by Morgana. If these transports can be intercepted, the grain prevented from reaching the city day after day, you may find it easier to take the city when the time comes. Hungry soldiers will not want to fight. And also, your people are hungry are they not? Why not kill two birds with one stone. Starve the people of Camelot and feed your own."

He could tell he now had their full attention. His heart thumped wildly, but he did not betray any flicker of fear. Was what he was doing right? Would an idea as ridiculous as this actually work? If he could manage the spell he had found in his spell book, multiplying quantities of food, he could easily sneak into Camelot's grain stores and replenish the food so the people would not really starve, but how long could he keep it up without Arthur noticing the supply was never running low? How long before he became suspicious?

He continued:

"All you need do is attack the wagon as it travels from the villages to Camelot in the early morning. Take the grain for your own. Leave some Dark Magic signs somewhere, that'll help panic them even more, sow unrest among the people. Make them fear you."

Wrecan cackled.

"And spread the remains of the traders all over the road for the birds to feast on. That'll send them a message."

"No!" Merlin shouted, almost too loudly, without thinking. When Wrecan looked at him in confusion he hurriedly made something up.

"No deaths. We need them to make it back to the city to tell others what happened, so they know the threat they face. With scared peasants running around all over the place it'll just make them more afraid."

Wrecan seemed to acknowledge this with disappointment, and Merlin was chilled by the amount of blood-lust he had. Then, something stirred within him, some distant feeling as he spoke those words, as though saying to him: _Why not kill them? How many innocent Druids has Uther killed while they were only trying to get their own supplies from Camelot?_ He pushed this voice aside though, forcing himself not to listen to it. It was only the Dark Magic talking, he couldn't let it take form.

Gamol spoke:

"You seem to have forgotten something Emrys. This realm can only be reached when the moon shines on the clearing at the boundary to our realm. Are we to sit by the side of the road all day until night with cartloads of stolen grain by our sides?"

Merlin thought. That did pose a problem. If the Wandrian were supposed to be moving in and out of their realm to raid Camelot how were they supposed to do it when they could only enter or leave at night? Then the idea hit him.

"I know a spell," he spoke quietly. "It can simulate the appearance of moonlight. I can make it so it always appears as though the moon is shining on the clearing. It was originally supposed to be for magical botanists, as many magical plants are only useful if picked at moonlight. It's incredibly powerful and complex, but I might be able to manage it if I tried hard enough."

He certainly was pushing his boundaries here, he'd barely even looked at the spell, let alone tried to use it before, and here he was telling them he would use it for them! He really should think before he spoke.

Hafela sat up straighter and looked at him with an odd expression.

"Well, well, well. I have heard tales of your great power Emrys, yet I had not anticipated you would have the power over the moon and sun themselves."

_Neither did I, _thought Merlin. This had better work.

Hafela stood up slowly, with a great creaking of joints and a fresh pungent aroma of rotten flesh heading towards Merlin. He paced around the room for a few moments, or rather shuffled around the room, it appeared the flesh of his legs was rotten also, restricting his movement. Merlin tried to wait patiently, but the Dark Magic of the room was putting him on edge, as though there was some wild animal in his chest fighting to escape.

Finally, Hafela turned to look at him, and grinned broadly. Merlin had to suppress another gasp at the sight of the bloody rotten mess.

"We are fortunate to have you with us Emrys. Who else but a servant would have thought of _grain_."

Gamol and Wrecan chuckled appreciatively. Merlin wondered whether or not he should feel insulted. But, it seemed to be working.

Hafela snapped his fingers, and his eyes glowed with the use of magic, not golden as Merlin's did, but a harsh green. And, out of mid-air, a young boy appeared suddenly in the room. He was little more than ten years old, and frightened out of his wits. He let out a shriek of terror as he saw who had summoned him, and he fell to his knees in respect.

Hafela smiled slightly at this display of subservience, but then spoke in his guttural voice:

"Fetch Gifre to me. I have a little excursion planned for him."

The boy nodded fearfully and raced off without a look back to Hafela, trembling. As he passed Merlin he looked quickly into his face and blanched. Merlin saw there in his eyes, complete and utter terror, and it was directed solely at him. This boy was trembling in fear because of _him_? He barely had time to register his shock before the boy raced out of the room.

Wrecan snickered:

"You'll want to watch that one Hafela, keep scaring him like that and he'll wet himself one of these days."

Hafela dismissed this with a wave of his hand.

"He's useful. It's easier to summon the Young Ones. Less resistance."

Wrecan grinned evilly.

"Yeah, I remember the last adult you tried to summon. Exploded didn't he? Mess all over the floor, all over the walls. Was a nightmare to clean up. We were picking brain off the walls for weeks."

Merlin suppressed a shudder with difficulty and had to force himself not to search the walls for any trace of that poor man's fate. He had to remind himself, he was supposed to be cold and unfeeling. He had to hide all traces of disgust.

Gamol sighed.

"Yes, yes, nasty business. Now, Emrys." He fixed Merlin with a direct gaze. "What else have you heard from your dealings in court?"

"Not much. They're all completely terrified that you're all going to ride in there and kill them."

Wrecan smiled.

"Well they're not completely stupid then are they?"

Merlin ignored him.

"They know about Emrys, but they don't know it's me. Arthur still trusts me completely. He's trying to figure out how to deal with these new threats, and failing. He thinks he can win by force."

Hafela turned to look at him, his interest piqued.

"What other threats are there?"

Merlin frowned.

"Morgana. She led a group of sorcerers who attacked a village on the border of Camelot. They were slaughtered."

Hafela's eyes gleamed.

"Did she now? That's _very _interesting."

Merlin longed to ask why, but he saw that he wouldn't get an answer, Hafela was lost in his own thoughts. He dreaded to think what sort of dealings these people had had with Morgana. He was distracted however by the arrival of a short stocky man with blackened eyes.

"Ah, Gifre." Hafela turned to him, losing all interest in Merlin, who sat still, trying to ignore the ever increasing power of Dark Magic that had begun to build up when the new man had entered the room. He felt it bubbling beneath the surface, fire in his veins, tempting him, calling to him...

He had to get out.

He stood up suddenly, causing everyone in the room to turn and look at him.

"A little air I think," he stammered by way of excuse and he all but ran outside the room, into a semi-ruined courtyard outside in the light of the moon.

He stood still, breathing deeply in the night air, trying to calm down his raging emotions. He was unsuccessful. The Dark Magic was still ever present, it was in the castle itself, it was all around him...

He felt it building up and up, getting stronger and stronger, raging in his mind, a tempest of darkness, he couldn't control it...

With a final surge of agony he found himself hurled into a vision in his mind, a blinding display of colour and light. It burned like fire, like ice, through every fibre of his being.

_Arthur stood before him, fear, betrayal and hurt in his eyes. "How could you Merlin? How could you betray us like that? How could you have lied to us all these years?"_

_But Merlin did not feel remorse or guilt. He felt pleasure._

_He laughed, a cold laugh._

"_It is not betrayal Arthur Pendragon. This is loyalty. Loyalty to my own kind, my kin. You are nothing to me. Were you really deceived into thinking I ever cared about you or the rest? It was only ever a plot to get what I want. To be the most supreme sorcerer to ever have lived. And you will not stand in the way of that now!"_

_He held out his hand._

"Acwellan!"_ He shouted, a blast of energy leaving his palm, speeding towards Arthur._

_Blood splattered his face. He grinned maniacally. It was all worth it in the end, worth it for this._

_He saw their faces: Gwaine, Gwen, Gaius, Elyan, and the rest. They cried out at him, begging him for mercy, reminding him of their friendship. Ha! he thought. He had no friends. He needed none. He was the most powerful warlock in the world. That, and that alone was all that mattered. He saw their bodies, mutilated and lying in scarlet pools, and felt a thrill of delight._

_Then he felt himself leaving his body, becoming almost spirit, surrounding the area like some omniscient presence. It was exhilarating; to not be contained by earthly vessels, mortal flesh._

_He saw his body from above, standing still._

_He looked closer._

_He looked into his own face._

_The eyes he saw were pitch black._

_The skin on his face was mottled black, rotten and peeling from bone._

_The flesh on his body seemed to melt away from his skeleton, rotten heaps of flesh dropping to the ground._

_But still, he continued to laugh._

Merlin was pulled back to reality, with a scream, agony writhing throughout his body.

He was laying on the cold stone in the courtyard, his limbs jerking and flailing around, his heart thumping wildly, his breath ragged and heavy. A cold sweat lined his body, tears mixed with sweat upon his face. He trembled violently.

He lay there for how long he knew not. His breathing and heart rate returned to normal, he stopped shaking, but still he lay curled up on the ground not moving. Frozen in fear. One question raced through his mind:

Was that a nightmare, or prophecy?

Or both?

* * *

**A/N: Updates are gonna be completely erratic now, I do have to study sometimes! But I promise I'll update as much as possible!**

**Again, love ya if you review! Seriously, in previous stories I've often changed my entire plot coz of a review somone left with an amazing idea in it that I just HAD to use! Reviews are VERY much appreciated! But, I'm not gonna beg...well, not much ;)**

**Some Gwaine POV in the next chapter! I know a lot of you love Gwaine! And to be honest, who doesn't? :D  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Kay...sooo... I AM ALIVE! Sooo sorry for not updating. But stuff's been CRAZY. Since my last update, I've given a pint of blood to a stranger, and almost fainted in the process, tried to climb Britain's highest mountain for charity before suffering an asthma attack and being inches away from being air rescued, got a kitten, which has been attempting to claw my face off just coz it's bored, and had countless prelims and mock exams in preparation for the exams I'll start sitting next week which will determine my future at University. So, been a bit stressed lately.**

**Anyways, I'm on study leave now, which means, no studying, and loads of free time! Yesterday was my last ever day of high school! Where have the last six years gone? Anyways, it was Muck-up Day at school for the Sixth Years, and we were gonna do a prank which involved rape alarms being tied to helium balloons and being set off around the school, but we were chucked out first period from the common room and then from the entire school coz someone grassed us up so... :( But we DID manage to convince a bunch of First Years that the school trip was cancelled and there was a meeting in one of the classrooms, which was pretty funny coz they were all dead upset, turned up at the class and waited around for half an hour, which was better than nothing :) And we DID manage to have the annual moor fight, which meant I came home covered in eggs, eggshell, flour, red sauce, brown sauce, mustard sauce, custard, milk, shaving foam, tooth paste and fairy liquid. Awesome day :D It's even on YouTube :)**

**Anyways, enough rambling. Here's Chapter 8, extra long to apologise for not updating and boring you with an extra long author's note! :D**

* * *

**Darkness and Shadow**

The supply wagons trundled on through the dark trees, the first rays of the morning sun falling on the sleepy-eyed men who were guarding it. A solemnity, almost bordering on boredom was hanging in the air, even the old horses pulling the wagon's cargo of grain looked bored out of their wits. The men marched side-by-side with the wagon, their spears drooping, dragging their feet. They all felt slighted, insulted, to be charged with the menial task of guarding a supply shipment, when they longed for the clamour of war, and the need to plunge their rarely used blades into the belly of a sorcerer.

None more so than Garet. He had been a member of the King's army since he was sixteen years old, fought in many battles, commanded many men, yet was dumped with the responsibility of transporting _grain_. As boredom began to seep more and more into his consciousness, he longed for something to happen.

A twig snapped, and Garet's head jerked up so quickly he caused a spasm of pain in his neck. Perhaps now would be a chance for some action? He peered into the shadowy darkness of the forest, straining his eyes for a sign of movement, listening with all his might.

"Sir?" One of the new recruits came by his side and looked at him questioningly.

"Shhh!" He hissed brusquely, and he gestured for the rest of the men to stay still. A sense of anticipation came over them all, they could all suddenly feel the eyes fixed firmly upon them, the tingle up the spine as the realisation came that someone was watching them.

Garet drew his sword and inched closer to where he had heard the noise, holding his breath.

A rabbit bounded out from the bushes and scampered past his outstretched sword, causing raucous laughter from the men. Garet sheathed his sword in annoyance, he had almost wanted confrontation, anything to break the monotony of the day.

He laughed alongside his men, trying valiantly to see the funny side. But, what was a man of his experience doing stalking rabbits in the forest? He was humiliated.

His men continued to laugh hysterically, and Garet began to grow annoyed. They wouldn't be laughing so hard if they weren't so bored.

Suddenly the face of one of the soldiers blanched and his eyes grew wide and fearful and he drew a shaking hand up and pointed behind him, and his mouth opened and closed in horror.

Garet felt the familiar rushing fire in his veins and the cold thrill of battle. He turned slowly on the spot to face the new enemy, ready for a battle, but as soon as he saw what was behind him, his body was flooded with fear.

A great green orb hung in the air in front of him, shimmering and glowing with an evil energy, calling out to them in dark voices, and alighting the very worst thoughts and fears in his mind. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he dropped the spear from his left hand, as his body grew numb in terror.

At that moment, just when they had all been incapacitated, the orb grew in size and became a blinding surge of energy, sucking in the air from around them, a whirlwind forming on the path in front of them. What seemed to be a bolt of green lightning struck the ground and spread out in a spidery pattern on the hard earth, setting the ground ablaze in an emerald fire.

The light faded and left upon the ground was a blazing symbol, scorched into the earth. Cold dread came over Garet and he trembled from head to foot. He had listened to enough of the old wives tales and superstitions in his village to recognise that symbol. It was Dark Magic. They were doomed.

An upsurge of men came charging out the trees, green orbs held suspended above their hands, glinting evilly. Garet became unfrozen, let out a battle-cry and unsheathed his sword and brought it down upon the nearest assailant. The blade melted when it came within an inch of his head.

The sorcerer cackled, and his eyes glowed green and Garet felt himself be flung backwards, his back smacking against the trunk of a tree and his now useless sword flying out of his hand. He struggled to regain his senses and stand back up, but the sorcerer stood blocking his way, laughing. Garet drew in a sharp breath as he saw the man's face clearly. His eyes were rimmed in black, and the skin on his neck was black and rotten, but still he laughed, as though mad.

He made no further move to harm him and Garet cast a look around him to see his men in similar situations, pinned to the ground, or cowering in fear as black-eyed men stood above them.

Beyond the men, Garet saw some more of the sorcerers on the wagons, unloading the grain with expressions of glee on their faces. He felt a flash of anger; the one tiny task he had been trusted with and he had failed.

He felt so entirely helpless.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Kill us then! That's what you want isn't it you filthy corrupter of nature!" Garet found his courage suddenly in his anger at the sorcerers. "Get on with it!"

The sorcerer in front of him grinned maniacally and raised his hand, and Garet prepared for the death blow.

"No!"

Garet spun his head around to his right and saw a hooded man with his face concealed striding towards him.

"No Gifre. There are to be no deaths here!"

"But Emrys it is so much fun to see them squirm!" The sorcerer whined.

A feeling of cold dread came over Garet and if it was possible he became even more afraid. Emrys. He had head the rumours from Camelot...

"I said no!"

"You have no authority over me Emrys!"

"No, but Hafela does, and he instructed you to follow out _my _plan to _my _specifications."

The sorcerer, apparently named Gifre scowled at Emrys.

"I don't see why we have to keep the filthy rats alive."

"We have to get word back to Camelot. We need to send the message that the Wandrian will not be defeated."

"Who are you to decide that? You aren't even one of us! And besides," the man sneered, "It only takes one man to send a message."

Although the man's face was obscured, Garet could tell he was glaring at the other sorcerer.

"Take it up with Hafela when you get back, but now, I say, there are to be no casualties."

Gifre scowled at Emrys, a pure unabated anger, but Emrys was unconcerned. A flash of gold came from under his hood, and Garet felt himself be raised from the ground and suspended in mid-air, before being moved across to the middle of the road where he was deposited in a heap on the ground. From grunts and groans from around him, he concluded his men had been met with similar treatment. A great force came upon them and pushed them together, back-to-back, and Garet found he couldn't move an inch. He saw from the corner of his eye, the sorcerers had finished unloading the grain and were levitating the barrels in front of them, with green flashes in their eyes. Curiosity was aroused in Garet, why did only Emrys' eyes glow golden?

Then Emrys himself stepped forward, and came very close to Garet, and he noted, unlike Gifre, this man did not have a stench of death, but still an aura of danger.

"Go back to Camelot. Tell your king that Wandrian will no longer hide in the shadows and live on scraps. We will rise up and take his city, and bring his kingdom to its knees. He is right to fear us, there is nothing he can do to prevent his downfall. He will stand and watch as sorcerers take their rightful place in the world, superior to all else. He will fall, and he will watch as his kingdom falls with him. Tell him this, so that he may realise our determination. We will prevail."

Garet sat in shock and horror at the man's words. Nothing could explain the torrent of emotions he was feeling at that moment.

"Why?" He gasped. "Why would you do this?"

Garet detected a small hint of a wry smile in the shadows of the man's face. He turned his head slightly to look at the now-empty supply wagons.

"Sorcerers have to eat too you know."

Then Emrys began to speak in a foreign tongue, words dripping with magical power coming off his tongue, a haunting and dangerous melody weaving around them, and Garet felt himself being pulled into the darkness.

* * *

Well, that went well, thought Merlin. The Transportation spell he had used on the wagon guards had only just faded from sight, but the sorcerers were already shouting and cheering, congratulating themselves on defeating them. Merlin stared for a long moment at the place they had vanished when he had sent them to Camelot. He could not rid himself of the image of that man's eyes when he had beheld him, the fear that was in them, just like the little boy of the previous night. True, it had been rather fun pretending to be all mighty and powerful and dangerous, but the effect it had on good honest men unsettled him. He had never wanted to have someone look at him in such fear. And then again, he wasn't sure he had been pretending. The remnants of the Dark Magic in his mind relished in the power his deception was bringing him. If he wasn't careful, his deception could become permanent.

He took his eyes from the spot they had vanished and looked around at the others. All of them used Dark Magic, the blackness of their eyes testified to that, yet most of them still feared him, merely because of his name and the legendary things he was said to be capable of doing. Except Gifre, he didn't appreciate the fact someone could just stroll into the realm of the Wandrian and be granted such a trusted position in their ranks, without even using Dark Magic. It was rather ironic really, as Gifre had a point: Merlin was not to be trusted.

He tried to keep his façade of power alive.

"What are you celebrating for? Do you rejoice in the fact you managed to overwhelm a small group of foot soldiers? It that some sort of achievement to you?" Merlin spoke quietly, but all them stopped to listen. "We must get this grain back to the castle. Only when we have succeeded in starving the citizens of Camelot can we have reason to celebrate. Today was just an insignificant victory, it means nothing in the wider picture."

Gifre turned red in anger, which clashed horribly with his rotten skin.

"You have no right to command my men Emrys!"

Merlin turned his head to the side slightly.

"No, but I thought someone should."

Before Gifre could make some angry retort, Merlin hurriedly uttered the words for the Transportation spell under his breath, and a moment later found himself standing in the clearing beyond the realm of the Wandrian, looking strange and unreal in brilliant sunshine.

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. He knew the rest of the sorcerers would be joining him in a moment, but he welcomed the brief respite from the pressing hostility of Dark Magic. During the skirmish he had almost been completely overwhelmed by the force of so much combined Dark Magic, and had shown as much when he had spoken to the guard he sent back to Camelot. It unnerved him to think not all of what he had said had been acting. Not for the first time that morning his mind drifted back to the vision he had had the previous night. He hadn't for a moment at first thought it could come true, but the thoughts that kept returning to him, scared him. Those frightened eyes...

Not a few moments after he had arrived in the clearing, slight whooshing noises heralded the arrival of the other sorcerers. The stench of death and decay fell on the clearing, and Merlin felt that great monster once again awaken inside him.

He tried to shake it off, and concentrate on what he was supposed to be doing. It was simple enough he supposed; just replace the sun with the moon for this clearing so the path to the Wandrian would be visible. Easy.

Merlin shaded his eyes and peered up at the sun. He hoped it would work.

Gifre coughed pointedly behind him and Merlin searched for the spell in his memory. He would _not _ be shown up in front of him.

He found the incantation and opened is mouth to utter it, but for the briefest of moments he couldn't even sense his magic within him. The overwhelming pressure from all around him, the negative effects on his own body repressed his magic for the briefest of instants, before it was suddenly gone, leaving Merlin afraid. He hadn't realised Dark Magic could influence his own like that.

Gifre coughed again, and Merlin hurriedly began the incantation again, this time gratefully drawing upon his magic without issue, so easily he almost felt he had imagined his previous difficulty.

"_Asprytan __þā mōnaðfylen. Lǣtan hit geondscīnan þās gelōgian. Lǣtan þā sunne sēcan slǣp."_

Merlin felt the familiar exhilerating rush of energy as it through every inch of his body, filling him up with power and fire. He had been correct; this spell was far more powerful than many he had attempted. He felt himself grow weaker as his energy was depleted, but he held the spell fast.

The sun shone out, a blazing eye high in the sky, growing brighter and brighter, until it seared Merlin's eyes and he had to look away. It seemed to fill every inch of his vision until all he could see was blinding sunlight. He panicked, the spell must have gone wrong; the sun was supposed to be getting dimmer, not brighter. He tried to release the spell, stop its progress but he found he couldn't, it was too far gone. Fire surged through his veins and he flung his arms in front of his face to protect himself from the glare.

Then all of a sudden, all went dark.

Merlin peeked out from behind his arms warily. The clearing was engulfed by darkness, a shadow had fallen on the forest, and a dead silence. Up above, the stars and moon shone out innocently.

Merlin breathed out. He had actually done it! He looked around him and saw the sorcerers looking up in disbelief at what they saw and he grinned. Let them doubt his identity as Emrys now!

He darted to the edge of the clearing, the opposite side to the path that led to the Wandrian, and stepped out into the trees. Immediately, the sun roared up, illuminating the trees and casting a dappled green light on the ground. He darted back again. The moon replaced the sun in the sky. Merlin laughed, awed at his own power, the power over the sun and moon! He amused himself for a couple of moments sticking his head out and in the clearing, observing with delight the sun and moon switching positions in the sky instantaneously, before he remembered, he was supposed to be acting intimidating in front of these sorcerers, not childlike.

He turned to face them all once again, who were looking at him in awe and something akin to fear. A small part of Merlin was glad at this. Finally, someone was seeing him for what he really was, what he could really do.

Gifre stepped forward hesitantly.

"You did it. I must say, I was sceptical. I fully believed you would perish in the attempt."

Merlin gave his best attempt at a condescending smirk.

"That's because you fail to fully appreciate the powers of Emrys, Gifre. Do not be so unwise as to do so again.,

Merlin was amazed to see Gifre nod, and step backwards, levitating some of the barrels of grain and moving onto the path without comment, almost as though he was submitting to Merlin's authority.

Merlin frowned. Just a few minutes earlier, he'd been so arrogant and self-assured, and now he was willingly obeying Merlin? Merlin did not miss the look in Gifre's eyes. Fear. This Dark sorcerer was afraid of him.

That thought disturbed him. And he wasn't sure whether it was because he thought he was being influenced by Dark Magic, or because he wasn't.

Half an hour later, Merlin stood in front of Hafela, Gamol and Wrecan, leaders of the Wandrian, the barrels of grain piled up behind him.

Hafela's black eyes remained unchanged, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his ruined mouth.

"There are enough provisions here to feed our people for a month."

Merlin smiled.

"And to keep the bellies in Camelot rumbling."

Hafela nodded, and exchanged glances with his two lieutenants. Gamol looked satisfied, but Wrecan still looked at Merlin with distrust.

"You have done well Emrys."

"Thank you."

"Do not think however, that your work is over," Wrecan scowled. "If you wish to prove you are truly loyal to us, you'll have to do much more than deliver a few barrels of food."

Merlin struggled to contain his anger, which flared up outwith his control.

"Do not doubt me Wrecan. You'll see my true potential soon enough."

Wrecan however scoffed and stalked off haughtily. Merlin was intrigued, he sensed that there was more to Wrecan's distrust of him than he let on.

Merlin was dismissed and he strode gratefully out of the castle. Haunting images and dark energies sprung out at him as he tried to leave, tempting him, trying to infiltrate his mind, but he ignored them, though with great difficulty. He had to keep reminding himself of who he was and why he was here, concentrating on Camelot, and Arthur, and Gaius. He had to keep his mind, no matter what the Dark Magic threw at him.

He emerged through the gates of the castle, and breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air washed over him. The land was in a perpetual night, as though this place existed outside of normal time. Merlin doubted sunlight had ever been here and cast its warm glow on its people.

The Dark Magic was less out here, but still he felt it tugging at the back of his mind. Still, at least now it was no more dangerous than some niggling little thought that refused to go away. He could handle this.

He moved through the people there in the shamble of houses and shacks. Their grotesque faces and maddened eyes peered up at him, mangled by the abuse of the magic, fear in their every movement. Most were muttering to themselves.

Merlin felt a tingle of unease. These people had been driven mad, their bodies mutilated, through the use of Dark Magic. Even being near the castle, a source of the magic affected them in extreme ways. Dark Magic had done this to them. Dark Magic also affected him. Was he looking into his own future?

Merlin tried to avoid looking at them, but then one of them caught his eye. It was the man he had met on his first visit, Nacod, who had rambled on at him. Merlin remembered what Hafela had said, that Nacod was mad and shouldn't be listened to, but the words he had spoken, they had sounded like prophecy, not the utterances of a mad man, and Merlin had ignored prophecy too many times to dismiss this lightly. Nacod had spoken of a death, one caused because of Merlin and 'darkness.'

Nacod caught sight of Merlin and made his way over to him, walking solemnly, looking perfectly sane, unlike last time. Merlin felt a chill as Nacod looked at him, no madness in his eyes whatsoever. Did that mean his prophecies should be taken seriously and not dismissed as Hafela thought they should?

Nacod reached him and stared at him evenly. He spoke in a soft voice, carefully and precisely:

"The darkness is upon you. It is growing and growing. You extinguished the sun and instead brought moonlight. The point of no return is drawing closer and closer, unless you find the light within you once more, you shall be lost forever to the darkness."

Nacod paused, his head tilted to one side, scrutinising him.

"Trust is a powerful thing. It can lead to the rise and fall of an empire, a victory in battle, a lasting bond for all eternity. Be careful on whom you bestow it, and be not afraid to bestow it. For no one man can conquer darkness on his own. If you forget that, you shall fall. And others with you."

"Who?" Merlin breathed, standing rigid.

Nacod's eyes gleamed, and he looked mad once more.

"Now that would be telling would it not? You are magic! You can save one kingdom, but doom another. You can gain power, but lose what you care most about. The shadow of death looms ever closer, whom shall it take? That will be your decision."

A cold shudder came over Merlin.

"Who?" He asked more forcefully. But Nacod just laughed, and sprang away, his solemnity and sobriety forgotten.

Once again Merlin found himself wondering whether or not the man was mad or speaking the truth. He couldn't tell the difference any more. He felt half-mad himself.

"I wouldn't listen to him my Lord, he's always saying crazy things like that."

Merlin spun round on the spot, to see a man a few years younger than himself standing behind. He was thin, even thinner than Merlin, dressed in rags, with a gaunt dirty face, which covered his chalk-white skin. He was nervous, and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He looked almost skeletal, but there was no stench of death upon him, and Merlin saw, the eyes below his twitching eyelids had no trace of black in them. This man did not use Dark Magic.

"A lot of things sound crazy at first, but that doesn't mean we should dismiss them lightly." Merlin observed the man closely. He didn't appear to be a threat. A first in this realm.

The man shook his head jerkily.

"No, of course not my Lord."

Merlin felt a twinge of unease. Somehow, when all the powerful Dark sorcerers had treated him with respect, feared him and listened to him, he had enjoyed the power and feeling that went with it. But when this man displayed the same characteristics, it made him sad. Why should someone as obviously mistreated and afraid be frightened of someone like him?

"Please, don't call me that."

The man frowned.

"But it's disrespectful not to, my Lord."

"I'll decide that. What makes you think I'm so important?"

"You are Emrys."

"That's all?"

"I know of the prophecies my Lord. I know of your power, and what you will do. I saw what you did to the clearing, extinguishing the sun itself. It would a great dishonour to not give you the respect you deserve."

Merlin felt his curiosity piqued.

"And what exactly do these prophecies say about me?"

"You don't know?" The man said in a tone of surprise.

Merlin smiled wryly. "Someone did tell me there was much written about me I had yet to read."

The man didn't answer, and fiddled with his clothes. He seemed to be shaking head to toe. Merlin frowned.

"There's no need to be afraid of me. What is your name?"

"Gehola, my Lord."

Merlin stepped closer.

"Gehola, look at me."

And the man turned his eyes towards Merlin, fearfully. They widened in shock as they met Merlin's.

"You- you don't- you don't use Dark Magic!"

Merlin grinned.

"Nope."

Gehola's mouth opened and shut in surprise, at a loss for words.

"There's no need to be so shocked. By the look of your eyes, you don't use it either."

Gehola shook his head.

"No. But all the prophecies speak of the immense power wielded by Emrys!"

"Can't I be powerful and not use Dark Magic also?"

"I suppose."

"Exactly." Merlin kept watching the man, who was now greatly less frightened of him. "If you don't use Dark Magic, how did you come to be here?"

Gehola frowned.

"My parents were killed in the Purge when I was a child. My aunt, a user of Dark Magic, brought me here. But I watched and saw what the magic did to her, and I wanted no part of it. Besides, my parents died because they used good and pure magic to heal people, I would be shaming them by resorting to the most unnatural magic."

Merlin nodded, understanding. Hafela had mentioned some people here did not use Dark Magic. But something was off.

"Forgive me, you seem awfully, well, _sane_, as compared to others around here. Doesn't the magic affect you?"

Gehola grimaced.

"Yes, most definitely. But I know how to keep myself free of the magic."

"How?" Merlin pressed. Was there really a way to keep himself from yielding to the magic?

Gehola hesitated, casting a frightened glance at the castle.

"You need not fear, Hafela will hear none of this from me."

Gehola relaxed visibly.

"In the Forest of No Life, there is a single tree, far older than any other for miles around. So old, it was probably here at the beginning of time, placed there by the gods themselves. It is the only living thing here that flourishes. When I am in its shade, under its protection, I can forget about the Dark Magic."

"How?"

"I'm not sure exactly. It's as though the tree has it's own magic that is more ancient and powerful than anything else in the world. It makes no sense to me, but there, the darkness has no hold."

Merlin pondered this for a moment. What could possibly counteract Dark Magic? What was the most powerful force on earth? Then it came to him.

"The magic of the Old Religion." He murmured.

Gehola frowned.

"My Lord?"

Merlin looked up.

"Nothing." He stayed still a few more moments before making a decision. "I must leave, before my absence in Camelot is noticed."

He turned to go, but Gehola stopped him.

"Emrys?"

Merlin turned.

Gehola looked uncertain and afraid once more.

"Can you help us?"

Merlin stared at him one long moment. Someone so young, so haunted and tormented by the most evil form of magic, through no fault of his own, did not deserve to be abandoned. And Merlin was certainly not about to do that.

"I will do everything in my power."

* * *

Merlin ran into the Council Chambers, skidding on the flagstone floor, attracting disapproving looks from the nobles gathered there. He paid them no heed however and made his way to his usual spot at Arthur's side.

"You're late Merlin." Arthur hissed at him.

Merlin tried not to feel annoyed, but that unfamiliar anger, closer to the surface after his encounters with Dark Magic rose up again. The reason he was late, he wanted to say, was because he had spent all night trying to infiltrate the ranks of his enemies, gain information that would protect Camelot, preventing that creep Gifre from murdering innocent soldiers, and replenishing Camelot's own grain stores with a Cloning spell so the people of Camelot would not starve even without the supplies of grain from the Outer Villages! But thankfully he was distracted before he could say any of this to Arthur.

The doors to the Chambers opened and the place fell silent. Merlin strained to see what was happening; he'd only just reached his own bed ten minutes ago, before Gaius had told him Arthur had summoned him, so he had no idea what was happening. Then he saw who walked in through the doors.

It was the soldiers who had been guarding the supply wagon, looking haggard and broken, but determined all the same. Merlin was vaguely surprised to see them, the spell he had used to send them away shouldn't have brought them so close to Camelot, he had expected to have had some time before they arrived. He kept his eyes averted; although he had kept his face concealed, he wasn't taking any chances, lest they would recognise him.

Arthur stiffened next to Merlin and his face became stony.

The apparent leader of the group approached Arthur and bowed deeply. Arthur acknowledged this with a nod of his head. It was then Merlin noticed Uther was not in the room, this was all on the prince.

"What is your name, soldier?" Arthur asked, sounding more regal than Merlin was used to.

"Garet, sire."

"And you're in charge of the ferrying of supplies from the outer villages to Camelot?"

"I am, sire."

Arthur frowned, looking serious.

"I understand you have some grave news for me?"

Garet nodded, looking solemn.

"We were on the trail to Camelot, having only just picked up the supplies. The forest was still, and we were untroubled for the while. Then, we saw a great glowing orb on the path in front of us. It radiated evil my Lord. It created a mark on the ground. A mark I recognised from the stories I was told as a child. It was a mark of Dark Magic."

The atmosphere in the room tensed immediately, and everyone looked afraid.

Arthur's expression however did not change.

"Continue."

Garet took a deep breath.

"Sorcerers came at us through the woods, blasting us out of the way with magic and seizing the grain supplies. Their eyes were as black as night, the skin seemed to be rotting from their bodies. I'm ashamed to admit sire, I was afraid, and did little to defend the wagons or my men."

Arthur shook his head.

"There was little you could have done. Sorcerers would have considered you easy meat. By managing to come back and tell us this you proved much more useful." Arthur then hesitated before continuing. "How many men did you lose?"

Garet frowned at this.

"That's the part that confuses me sire. None."

Arthur's eyes widened.

"They let you all live?"

Garet nodded.

"Yes. Though sire, they didn't seem to want to. One of the sorcerers stopped them."

Arthur stood completely still.

"Who?"

Garet seemed almost too afraid to answer.

"It was Emrys, my Lord."

The entire hall erupted into shouts of fear and shock, people whispered to each other furiously. Merlin almost enjoyed the looks of fear on their faces.

Arthur held up his hand to silence them.

"Why did Emrys spare you?

"He said we had to return to send a message, sire."

"And what was this message?"

"He said to say, that the Wandrian would no longer hide away, living on scraps. That they would rise up and bring down the city and there was nothing we could do to prevent its downfall, and we were right to fear them. That the king will stand and watch as sorcerers rise up and take their place above all else, and he will fall along with his kingdom. That they are determined, they will prevail."

The hall fell silent, as people registered their shock and fear. Arthur's fists clenched together, and his knuckles stood out white. Merlin frowned slightly, that hadn't been _exactly _what he had said.

Arthur was silent for a long time and Merlin could almost see the conflict going on in his mind. Merlin could tell he was terrified of this information, and trying to think of a way he could fight it. And Merlin realised he wasn't entirely displeased Arthur was frightened of him. It was rather satisfying, to a small degree.

Arthur finally spoke again:

"And what was your opinion of this man. Was he a good leader?"

Garet thought for a moment.

"That also confused me sire. One of the other sorcerers seemed to be challenging him, as though he didn't want to listen to him. He said that Emrys had no authority over him, and that Emrys wasn't even one of them. Emrys agreed, and said he had to take that up with someone else when they returned back to wherever they came from. That this other man had instructed the sorcerer to carry out Emrys' plan to his own wishes. The sorcerer wasn't too pleased with this."

"So you think there's anarchy in their ranks? You don't think Emrys is their leader?"

"No sire, if anything, Emrys works for another man, and these men resent him for some reason."

Arthur frowned.

"Do you think they may be intimidated or frightened by him?"

"I believe it's possible my Lord."

Merlin raised his eyebrows slightly. Gifre afraid of him? Now _that_ was satisfying.

"What hope do we have then? If Dark Sorcerers are afraid of this man then we don't stand a chance!"

One of the Knight's voices rang out fearfully. Arthur ignored it, but everyone else in the hall became more frightened if possible.

"And what was your opinion of Emrys as a man? Was he ruthless, weak, arrogant? What can you tell me about him? What did he look like?"

Merlin almost smiled at the irony. It was typical of Arthur to try and glean as much information as he could about his enemies, but when that man was standing right next to him...well, it was enough to make him want to laugh.

"I could not tell, sire, his face was concealed by a hood. But he was tall, and lean, and walked with the vigour of a young man. He had an aura of danger, although he was not like the others."

"How so?"

"The rest of them stank of rotten flesh, Emrys did not. When the others used magic, their black eyes glowed green, but when Emrys used magic, his eyes were golden. I am no expert my Lord, but I do not think Emrys was using Dark Magic."

There was no doubt now, the entire hall was filled with whispers of fear and confusion.

Arthur looked beyond bewildered.

"Geoffrey of Monmouth?"

Geoffrey stepped forward.

"Is there anything in the old prophecies about Emrys using Dark Magic?"

Geoffrey was silent for a moment.

"I cannot be sure my Lord. The prophecies are very ambiguous. They reference darkness and shadow, but I cannot be certain. I must consult them again."

"Please do. Do they mention anything of the 'Wandrian'? Do you know who they are?"

"I'm afraid not my Lord. On both counts."

Arthur sighed.

"No matter, just find out what you can."

Merlin's curiosity was spiked. Darkness and shadow. They were words Nacod had used. What exactly did the prophecies say? He was determined to find out.

Arthur dismissed the court, and was about to leave to consult with his Knights, when Garet spoke up suddenly.

"He may not use Dark Magic sire, but you should not underestimate him. He was dangerous, I could tell that much, and determined to see Camelot fall. I could feel sheer power in his presence, enough to put me on edge and want to run away. I am no coward my Lord, I have faced battle many times. But I must say, I have never been more frightened in my life, than when I was in the presence of Emrys."

Merlin felt cold all over, and deeply ashamed at what terror he had inspired in this man. He reminded himself, this was necessary, he had to do this, but he hated making him afraid. He was so confused, at times he enjoyed being feared, by Gifre, Arthur, sorcerers, it made him feel powerful, but when men like Gehola, Garet and those ravaged people at the Wandrian town feared him, it made him feel like a monster.

He felt two intense gazes fall upon him, and he didn't have to look to know they belonged to Gaius and Lancelot. What must they be thinking of him?

Everyone in the hall began leaving and Merlin tried to get ahead but-

"Merlin!"

Merlin grimaced and turned to face Gaius looking at him with a severe expression.

"Weren't trying to avoid me were you Merlin?"

"Course not." Merlin tried to laugh it off, but Gaius was having none of it.

"Come with me."

Merlin allowed himself to be led back to their chambers, Gaius keeping a firm hold of him. As soon as they entered, Gaius let go and rounded to face him.

"What on earth do you think you're doing Merlin?"

"I had to tell them about the wagon! I have to gain their trust!" Merlin pleaded.

Gaius stared.

"By attacking innocent men, that's how you would gain their trust?"

Merlin scowled.

"I made sure no harm came to them Gaius! I let them live!"

Gaius stood completely still and looked at him as he never had before.

"_Let them live?_" He repeated in a whisper. "Do you have any idea what you sound like?"

Merlin didn't answer. He was too angry. It had been a difficult decision, why couldn't Gaius support him?

Gaius was shaking his head, looking aghast.

"Never would I have though you would desire credit for _allowing _someone to live."

"I don't want credit Gaius, I just want you to realise that I've not forgotten what I'm supposed to be doing!" Merlin shouted. "I'm not like them!"

Gaius blinked.

"No, but I'm afraid you're losing sight of who you really are."

"I'm not! I had to do something Gaius to earn their trust! I'm going to make sure no harm comes to anyone in Camelot! I'm not evil!"

Gaius still shook his head.

"That man thought you were."

"I was pretending Gaius!"

"Are you certain?"

Merlin was lost for words. How could Gaius honestly believe he would enjoy pretending to be evil? But then, that niggling doubt in the back of his mind came back; he hadn't entirely hated the experience. Did enjoying being recognised for his power make him evil? Was he turning into them?

Merlin didn't say anything else, but turned on his heel and went to his room. He had to be alone. It was still early in the morning but he curled up in bed, trying to block out his torrent of confused thoughts. Arthur would be expecting him to come back to work, but Merlin didn't care. He'd let Arthur think he was sick again, he couldn't bare to leave his room and listen to the Knights discussing whether he was evil or not. He was already wondering that himself.

He fell into a restless sleep tormented by visions and images. Death, destruction, people he cared about lying dead on the ground, a shadowy figure looming above them, the shadowy figure that was himself. Darkness and Shadow. Darkness and Shadow. What was happening to him?

He woke with a start, covered in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably. The room was dark, the moonlight streamed in. He lay in bed trying to regain control, wiping away the tears that were mingled with the sweat on his face.

He had to find out who he was. He had to read those prophecies.

He sat up, ignoring a pounding headache, and pulled the covers off. It was then he realised there was an extra blanket covering him. He looked at it for a moment, feeling suddenly emotional.

"Thanks Gaius," he murmured.

He got out of bed and crept out of their chambers, passing a sleeping Gaius on the way, and returning the blanket. He needed it more.

He emerged in the corridors of the palace, darting amongst the shadows. The curfew was still enforced, and although as manservant to the prince, he had more right than others to be wandering the castle at night, he didn't want to risk getting caught.

He reached the gargantuan library, the domain of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and tried the huge brass handle. It was locked.

Quickly checking to see if anyone was coming, he held out his hand and whispered:

"_Onbregdan."_

The door swung open, and he slipped inside. The room was in darkness, but Merlin had walked this route too many times on an errand from Gaius to be inconvenienced. The room as always, smelled of musty old books and candle wax. It had a deathly silence, forbidding almost, as though the contents of each book were dangerous animals waiting to be unleashed.

His footsteps were muffled by thick dust as he wound his way between huge bookshelves, to the alcove at the back of the room, where Merlin knew the oldest books were kept.

Merlin listened intently for any signs of Geoffrey. He was known to spend many nights in the library, falling asleep at his work and Merlin had no intention of meeting him.

He reached the back of the room, where several large tables were converged, and covered in books and scrolls, evidence of Geoffrey's intense scouring of information. He would never leave anything lying like this unless he was working on something important. Tt was a complete mess, and Merlin despaired. How was he ever to find anything amongst all of this?

He resigned himself to a night of hard work and sat down at the largest table, pulling the largest scroll towards him, fragile with age.

"_Bryne." _ He muttered, and the nearest candle burst into flame.

How long he sat there reading, he had no idea, only that the more he read, the more his eyes drooped, and he longed for sleep but he kept going. After the first scroll, he moved onto the next, then another, and another. They were all the same; talking about Druids, their powers, the Old Religion, past events, ancient teachings...but there was no mention of Emrys. Ordinarily, Merlin would have been fascinated by these scrolls, there was enough information here to keep him occupied for years, to teach him all he wanted to know, but the prophecies were all that were on his mind.

Just when Merlin's head began to fall onto his chest from fatigue, the word he had been looking for jumped out at him from and ancient book; "Emrys."

He sat up straighter, all weariness forgotten and began to read intently, but was soon disappointed. It was all stuff he had heard before; telling of how Emrys would be the most powerful sorcerer ever, protect the 'Once and Future King', help to restore magic to a united Albion, have powers beyond that of any natural sorcerer; power of life and death, power over the elements, linked to dragons, power over time... it was flattering stuff, but nothing new. He began to grow bored again when the last passage caught his eye.

He looked closer at the book, the writing was small and elaborate, the ink almost faded into the parchment.

_There shall come a time in Emrys' life_ _when his resolve will be pushed to its limits, for men are not invincible nor insusceptible to the dark. The darkness shall come, it shall tempt Emrys and extinguish his light. The shadows shall fall on him, drown him, smother him. A desire to do good can be corrupted, kindness can be polluted. He shall be surrounded by death, by blackness, by rotten flesh. The night shall replace the day. The moon shall replace the sun. Flames can be doused. Gold can turn to green. He is magic. It is his life stream, the only thing that keeps him from the void of death. If it is corrupted, there will be no way way back from the abyss. Introverted and unnatural magic will consume him, his vision shall be dark, his flesh shall be rotten. Blood will stain his hands. Bodies of allies and enemies alike shall rest at his feet. This shall come to pass, if Emrys allows the darkness within to control him. He will wage a war against the dark, do battle with evil, it cannot be certain whether he will prevail. For this is a forked path, either one can be followed, light, or dark. Only he can decide. Only he can fight himself. The darkness shall consume the world and Emrys shall be feared and worshipped by all who survive the Purge of the Light. The ones who dwell in the Forest of No Life shall approach him. If they succeed in recruiting him, he shall fall, mind, body, and soul. A death shall mark his descent, a descent into the darkest form of existence. Only another death, can bring him back to the light, a sacrifice of one about whom he cares. If he succeeds he will lead the lands into a new era of light and golden days, if he fails, the world will descend into a fiery hell. Emrys must place trust in those he loves, lest his heart turn to stone, and all compassion leaves him, hollow and cold.  
_

Merlin sat stock-still, rigid, his eyes glued to the page, an odd sense of calm upon him. He couldn't take it in, he couldn't believe it.

This had to be a false prophecy. It couldn't be real.

Yet, it fits.

No, it couldn't. He refused to accept it.

He wouldn't let it come true.

Merlin closed his eyes, and took one long shuddering breath, panic only now beginning to make its presence felt. _Two deaths?_ People he cared about were going to suffer, no matter what path he went down. He no longer wanted to be feared, or respected. He wanted nothing more than to just go back to the way things were, when he was just Merlin the servant, idiotic, clumsy, but happy. The darkness that had been within him all day was now completely purged, he felt disgusted with himself, ashamed of the things he had been thinking. He had to stop this from happening. He couldn't let this come to pass!

He slammed the book closed, as though he could stop the prophecy coming true that way. He closed it so forcefully, the entire book fell from the table and landed in a heap on the floor. As it fell, a couple of loose pages fluttered out and flew across the room.

Merlin sighed, and stood up to retrieve them, it wouldn't do to have Geoffrey knowing someone had been in here. He had enough problems as it was.

He returned with the pages, and lifted the book from the floor gingerly, as though it would attack him, and was about to return the pages, when the writing caught his attention.

They were written in an ancient language, which Merlin knew had once been the language of the Old Religion. The language his spells came from. Merlin knew Geoffrey was knowledgeable, but he doubted whether he had ever learned how to read this language. Merlin however, had.

The writing was once again small and cramped, and difficult to decipher, but Merlin focused intently.

A noise from outside distracted him, and he jumped in surprise, but when no one was forthcoming, he turned his attention back to the prophecies.

_There is one, who shall oppose Emrys, who shall either be his ally, or downfall. She is of noble birth, and noble spirit, but corrupted by whispers of the darkness. Only Emrys can bring her back from the brink of the darkness. Whether or not she shall, will fall to her. Her future is balanced precariously. Neither the light, nor the dark have any hold over her, unless she chooses to commit herself to one. Emrys shall decide which she chooses. For Emrys shall know her in the light, and also in the dark, and their futures are joined, through love and hate, darkness and light. She is a force of nature, a tempest of magic, a powerful storm, which makes her attractive to many who would use her. The ones who dwell in the Forest of No Life, desire her. For she can help them, an unleasher of pure magic. She can save them, or destroy them. They will seek to control her, to further their own gains. It cannot be said, what actions she shall take. Like Emrys, she must choose her own path, darkness or light. Together, they shall determine the fates of all._

Once again, Merlin found himself in shock. One person sprung to mind immediately. But it couldn't be her, could it? It just couldn't be...Morgana?

"Merlin?" A voice came from the corner, and Merlin spun around to find Gwaine standing watching him.

* * *

Gwaine stood in shock as he stared at the intruder: _Merlin._

Merlin looked no less shocked to see Gwaine standing there. Gwaine saw that once again he looked awful. He knew Merlin had spent the day in bed ill, Gaius had told him so when Arthur had sent him out looking, so why was Merlin now wandering the castle at night? His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark shadows under them again. He looked seriously ill, and Gwaine wondered for an instant whether Merlin was wandering the castle in a fever.

"What are you doing here Gwaine?" Merlin asked. His voice was quiet, but there was no hint of delirium or fever.

"I could ask you the same thing Merlin." But when Merlin said nothing, Gwaine answered. "I'm on patrol. I saw the door to the library was open and a light within so I thought I'd investigate. I thought it was Geoffrey come back. I've had to remove him from the library every night, he's obsessed with his work."

Merlin nodded, but still didn't say anything. Gwaine fought his impatience. What on earth was Merlin doing here? Why wouldn't he say anything to him?

Gwaine had tried the tactic of not interrogating him, like Lancelot and Arthur had been doing, hoping that might encourage Merlin to talk to him, but Merlin was a closed book, and no amount of coercion would get him to talk. Gwaine didn't want to confront him, he felt that would just make things worse, but if Merlin didn't say anything soon, he might have to.

The conversation he had overheard between Merlin and Lancelot a couple of night's previously cane to him again. He had spent so long going over and over it again and again, trying to figure out what was going on, why Merlin would be in danger, but one thing kept coming back to him: _magic._

He refused to believe either Lancelot or Merlin would be using magic, but the thought kept returning to him. Merlin's mysterious illness had begun with the appearance of Dark Magic in Camelot, and the rumours about Emrys. He'd been getting steadily worse as time went on, and Gwaine knew; they were linked. He didn't know how, he didn't know why, but Merlin was involved in something that was going on, something to do with magic. And Gwaine needed to know what.

Gwaine wasn't stupid. He'd grown up in a kingdom where magic was prevalent, and although he was no expert, he knew enough to suspect.

But now wasn't the time.

"Come Merlin. You should leave before one of the other guards find you."

Merlin nodded and stepped away from the books and scrolls on the table.

"I was just-just...getting a book for Gaius."

Gwaine raised an eyebrow.

"In the middle of the night?"

Merlin faltered.

"Um...yes. It was really important."

Gwaine nodded slowly.

"So...where is it?"

Merlin frowned.

"Where's what?"

"The book Merlin."

"Oh, I uh, I couldn't find it."

"Uh huh." Gwaine observed him closely. There was no doubt he was lying.

Merlin gave poor attempt at a smile and made to walk past Gwaine to leave. Gwaine held out an arm to stop him.

"You should go and rest Merlin. You look awful."

Merlin nodded. Gwaine was suddenly struck by inspiration. Impulsively, he reached into his pocket and pulled an object from it, an object he had never shown to anyone. It was a dragon's tooth, carved with an intricate symbol, completely different from the symbol Emrys used. It was his most prized possession.

"Here." He held it out to Merlin.

Merlin looked at it in surprise. He didn't extend his hand, but just stood looking at it.

"It's a dragon's tooth. It's supposed to be lucky, to bring health and happiness. I never really believed in all that rubbish. But you look like you could use it."

Merlin still said nothing.

"It belonged to my father," Gwaine continued. "He gave it to me as a child, before I can even remember. He died the next day."

Merlin jerked his head up to look at Gwaine sharply.

"I can't take it Gwaine. If it belonged to your father. I know how I'd feel if-"

"Don't argue Merlin. You need it more than I do. Just remember Merlin, I am here if you need me. Don't forget you can confide in me if you're troubled. But if you won't, then just take this with you. If superstition is correct, it will protect you."

Merlin looked at it one more moment, then reached out and took it.

He smiled.

"Gaius once gave me a talisman, a rabbit's foot. He said it would guard me against evil spirits."

Gwaine smiled back.

"Well, with a rabbit's foot and a dragon's tooth you'll be invincible."

Merlin gave a short laugh, and his hand clenched over the tooth.

"Thanks Gwaine. You've no idea what this means."

Gwaine grinned.

"Don't mention it."

But as Gwaine looked closer, he saw something in Merlin's eyes, something deeper than mere gratitude. He had no idea what it could be.

Merlin paused, looking thoughtful, and then asked:

"How did your father come by a dragon's tooth?"

Gwaine hesitated, wondering whether he should say. Then he concluded, he might as well, it might make Merlin open up more if Gwaine told Merlin some of his own past.

"It was given to him by a Dragonlord. As a thank you, for saving his life."

Merlin's whole demeanour changed, and his expresson became even more closed. His eyes however were wild with some emotion Gwaine could not interpret.

"Who was this Dragonlord?" He asked, in a whisper.

Gwaine frowned in confusion.

"His name was Balinor."

Merlin blinked and he gasped slightly. There was no mistaking it now, Merlin definitely was hiding something. His eyes flashed as he heard the name and his jaw clenched. Gwaine grew suspicious.

"You haven't heard of him have you?"

Merlin stared.

"As a matter of a fact, I have. The Great Dragon attacked Camelot a couple of years ago, and Arthur and I were sent to find him to help us."

Gwaine tilted his head.

"And what became of him?"

"He's dead." Merlin said shortly.

Gwaine watched him a couple more minutes, still suspicious, before trying to lighten the subject.

"Well I suppose I'd better watch out, it seems all previous owners of that talisman end up dead."

Merlin didn't smile.

Gwaine laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder, and began to guide him out of the library.

"You'd better keep it close Merlin. Camelot needs all the help it can get. With the attack on the supply wagon this morning Arthur fears the citizens of the city will starve if we lose much more. Two more wagons are coming in the morning from Willowdale, twice as heavily armed. But I doubt that'll be much good against sorcerers. Our best hope is to go unnoticed."

Merlin turned his head abruptly.

"Yeah, I suppose."

Merlin's interest did not go unnoticed by Gwaine.

They reached the door to the library.

"You go ahead Merlin, get some sleep. You need it. I'll lock up here."

Merlin nodded, and made off down the corridor without a second thought. Gwaine however did not lock the door.

Instead, he slipped back inside, and strode straight back to the tables Merlin had been occupying. Perhaps what Merlin had been reading would give him greater insight into what was going on with him.

He reached the table, and saw an ancient book lying there with some loose pages on top. The writing was in some indecipherable language.

Gwaine placed them back inside the book, and his eyes were drawn to its title, written in a language he could understand:

"_A study of the Old Religion: The Prophecies of the Druidic people of Britain."_

Gwaine stared at it.

"Merlin. What have you gotten yourself into?"

* * *

**A/N: Again, I apologise for the wait! I never knew how much people liked this story! I've never had so many reviews and PMs asking me to update, it's crazy! But very nice all the same :) I'll try and not let there be such a big gap till the next one. Love if you review! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Once again I'm sooooo sorry for leaving a massive gap between updates, but I'm right in the midst of exams so I've been trying to study, which is made much more difficult to update as my mum keeps coming and barging into my room to make sure I'm actually studying and not procrastinating as usual, so sorry! Hope you enjoy! :)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 9- Secrets and Prophecies**

Gwaine strode quickly through the stone corridors of the castle, turning so many thoughts and theories over in his mind he was beginning to feel quite dizzy. His footsteps echoed off the walls as he continued on, not stopping until he had found the man he was looking for.

It had been two days since Gwaine had found Merlin in the library, and despite what the boy may say, Gwaine knew he had been reading the 'Emrys book' as he had taken to calling it. The question of _why_, however, had been eluding him ever since.

Gwaine knew everything had to be connected, Merlin was involved in these recent goings-on, but to what extent, Gwaine was clueless. The creeping suspicion came back to him, despite the amount of times he'd tried to throw it off, that Merlin was concealing something very dangerous. How was it, the morning after Gwaine had told Merlin about the two new grain wagons arriving to Camelot, they had been attacked, despite coming a completely different route from normal? Everything had been taken, the only small blessing being that no one had been killed; the sorcerers seemed to take pleasure in allowing the guards of said wagons to run around town inciting fear and panic amongst the people. Then another wagon just last night had been attacked, again, on a different route and at a different time from the norm. Again, aside from Arthur, the senior Knights and the guards themselves, the only person to know, was Merlin.

The headache that had been plaguing Gwaine for what seemed like months returned in full force. Merlin _couldn't _have told them, he wouldn't. But why then did Gwaine suspect him?

Merlin was the greatest friend Gwaine had, he was so loyal and giving, probably without an evil bone in his body, and Gwaine felt awful for distrusting him, but what else could he do? Would Merlin really betray them? No, he couldn't. But what then was making him act to strangely?

There was no way Merlin could be some sort of spy or informant could there? Camelot meant the world to him, he would die to protect his friends. If he really was giving information, there was something seriously wrong.

Gwaine didn't for a moment think Merlin was evil, or had any sort of malicious intent, it just wasn't in his heart. Merlin was suffering, physically and mentally, he could see that. He was frightened of something. Gwaine remembered the conversation Merlin had had with Lancelot late at night. Merlin was involved in something which Lancelot felt was over his head and dangerous. Merlin had talked about Camelot being in danger and he being the only one able to help save the ones he cared about, despite the risks and danger he faced. Gwaine had serious chills thinking about what it could be.

Something to do with the 'Wandrian', and the mysterious Emrys, was what sprung to mind. Were they forcing him to do something? Were they threatening his friends and family if he refused to help them? Was he willingly giving them information? Was it blackmail? Were they responsible for his 'illnesses' and strange behaviour? Merlin was the prince's personal manservant after all, he had access to valuable information, was that why they were targeting him?

Or was he completely over-exaggerating and Merlin really was just ill?

Aside from Merlin, he knew only one person who could answer these questions.

Gwaine rounded a corner and saw the object of his reverie standing alone in a corridor looking troubled.

Gwaine approached.

"Oi, Lancelot! Mind if I have a word?"

Lancelot spun round quickly in surprise, obviously having been too absorbed in his pondering to notice him.

"Not at all."

But he looked wary, and Gwaine suspected he knew what was coming.

Gwaine gestured towards an empty room and they both entered, Gwaine checking for any eavesdroppers.

Once he was satisfied they were alone, he turned to face Lancelot.

"You know what this is about."

It was a statement, not a question, but Lancelot nodded.

"Merlin."

They remained in silence for a moment, Gwaine observing him closely.

"Well?"

Lancelot sighed, and closed his eyes briefly, as though he had expected this.

"I can't tell you."

Gwaine felt his anger flare up despite already knowing what the answer was going to be.

"I know, I know. I've heard it from Merlin a million times:" I can't tell you", "I trust you, I really do", "Please try to understand," and I'm sick of it Lancelot. Our friend, yours and mine, is suffering. I see it everyday and I'm sick with worry, we all are. I know that you know what's wrong with him, I know you know what's going on, he's told me that himself. I know he trusts you, why more so than anyone else I don't know, but know he can trust me too. Please, tell me."

Lancelot looked worn out and stressed, but for the moment, Gwaine didn't care. He needed an answer.

"Gwaine, I know how much you want to help him. But Merlin's put his trust in me, and I swore not to reveal his secrets to anyone. I gave him my word, and I can't betray that, so don't ask me to. Just know, I'm doing all I can for him, as much as he'll let me. He's not alone in this."

"But surely he'd benefit more greatly if we all knew?" Gwaine shouted in incense.

Lancelot shook his head.

"No, that'd just make it worse."

Gwaine scoffed and turned his back on Lancelot. Why was he being so infuriating? Didn't he care?

Gwaine turned back.

"Fine. You can't break your word and tell me, but surely that doesn't mean I can't guess? After all, that's not against your oh-so-precious rules is it?"

Lancelot said nothing.

Gwaine started pacing back and forth.

"Just tell me when I'm getting close will you?"

He thought long and hard for a while with Lancelot watching.

"It's something to do with magic isn't it?"

Lancelot still said nothing, but his eyes flashed. Gwaine took that as confirmation.

"The Dark Magic, Emrys, the Wandrian, he's involved in it all."

He continued pacing.

"His illnesses, they're brought on by Dark Magic aren't they? Like when that corpse was dropped into our midst, that's when he got really ill. It's affecting him isn't it? Didn't Gaius say something about that? That some people are driven mad by the sight of it? Is that what's happening?"

Lancelot's expression shifted, and Gwaine breathed out.

"Dark Magic? That's what's causing this illness? But why does it keep coming and going? He's had no contact with it since that day has he? How is it he's fine for a few days, then he goes back to looking like a corpse? Like a few days ago, he looked great, then the next morning he looked awful and spent the whole day in bed, and now he's all happy again? It doesn't make sense."

Lancelot still remained silent.

Gwaine stopped his pacing.

"Unless, that wasn't his only contact with it?" He stepped closer to Lancelot. "He sneaks out at night, I know that much, is that when he comes into contact with it? But how?"

Lancelot frowned.

"Sneaks out at night?"

"A couple of nights ago I found him in the library, reading the Emrys prophecies. He was dodging my questions and acting weird. Unless, he was trying to gain more information about the Dark Magic and Emrys himself? Are they doing something to him? Are they making him do something? Where does he go at night Lancelot?"

Lancelot shook his head.

"I don't know."

"Come off it! I heard you and him arguing one night! You were saying something like 'You don't know what you're letting yourself in for' and he was saying about how he was doing this to protect Camelot, that he knew the risks and what 'they' would do to him, but he was doing it anyway. He's deeply involved in all of this. What exactly is he doing? What are they making him do?"

Lancelot sighed.

"I honestly don't know where's he going Gwaine, he won't tell me exactly where."

"But you do know who he's meeting?"

Lancelot remained silent, and Gwaine had to curb his frustration else he was in danger of punching Lancelot.

"He's in danger Lancelot, please tell me."

Gwaine looked at him searchingly.

"He's meeting Emrys isn't he?"

Lancelot looked up in shock and Gwaine felt a sudden cold come over him. He'd suspected sure, but confirmation seemed to resonate within him as though a realisation of the seriousness of the situation meant Merlin's certain doom.

"He is?"

Lancelot avoided his gaze, evidently annoyed his expressions were so readable.

Gwaine stood in shock for a few moments.

"What could he possibly be meeting that monster for?"

Lancelot shifted uncomfortably.

"Lancelot! Merlin's sneaking off at night to meet some powerful, not to mention very evil Dark sorcerer! You can't not tell me everything now!"

Lancelot sighed and looked into Gwaine's eyes.

"I won't betray any more Gwaine. You have to trust Merlin and I."

"Trust you! You've been keeping something this serious from me! Emrys knows all about our grain supply! Our routes, our guards! Did Merlin tell them? I'm not stupid Lancelot, I've noticed how they seem to know our every move. Merlin's giving them that information isn't he?"

Gwaine's voice was hurt as he realised with full horror what was going on.

Lancelot spoke up, his voice firm.

"And have you also noticed how many anonymous tips we're receiving from 'villagers' about the movements of the sorcerers and how our troops are always sent to a specific outpost just hours before it is attacked, claiming that Arthur told them to when he gave no such order? Or how the grain supply doesn't seem to be running low despite the seizure of the supply wagons, or how none of the skirmishes have resulted in the deaths of any one of our men?"

Gwaine blinked.

"You mean, Merlin's acting as _spy_?"

Lancelot said nothing, but his eyes seemed to glint.

Gwaine was completely overwhelmed. Merlin, a spy? He would have never have thought it. No wonder he was so afraid and ill-looking, he was putting his life on the line for the whole of Camelot. He was risking everything to protect them all, and he couldn't tell anyone for risk of exposure. Gwaine suddenly felt guilty for harassing him; what must it be like to carry such a burden?

"But why doesn't he tell Arthur at least? It must be easier than trying to do it all secretly."

"He doesn't want anyone to know, he doesn't want to put us into danger."

"But how much danger is he in himself?"

"I agree, but Merlin's mind is made up, no matter how often I try to change it. He is adamant on doing this. He can look after himself."

Gwaine laughed humourlessly.

"Against sorcerers? What defence could he possibly have?"

Then an awful feeling came over him, an idea that caused him to be afraid.

"Unless he's also using magic?"

Lancelot responded immediately.

"Don't be ridiculous. You and I both know Merlin would rather die than use Dark Magic."

Gwaine nodded, feeling ashamed of even suspecting Merlin of something so atrocious.

"Of course, but I'm starting to feel nothing about Merlin would surprise me now."

Lancelot smiled.

"That's something you need to get used to. No matter how well you know Merlin, he'll always find a way to surprise you."

Gwaine let this sink in. He still couldn't fully believe it. It was insane. How could Merlin possibly be coping with all of this?

"Sir Gwaine!"

Gwaine was jolted back to reality by a servant approaching from behind.

"Yes?"

The boy's face was grave.

"Sir Percival wishes to see you, another supply wagon's been attacked."

Gwaine looked back to Lancelot and they exchanged a meaningful glance.

"I'll be there in a moment."

The servant hurried off and Gwaine and Lancelot stood staring at each other.

"I trust I don't need to ask that this stays between us?" Lancelot asked.

Gwaine thought for a moment. Should he pretend to Merlin that he was still oblivious, or confront him about it? Should he let Merlin know that he too knew what was going on? Or would that just make things worse? He needed to think this over.

"Of course." Gwaine nodded to Lancelot. _For now, _he thought.

He turned and walked away. He'd keep quiet for now, not let Merlin know that he knew.

But this wasn't over.

* * *

Lancelot stood and watched Gwaine's retreating back, feeling a mixture of emotions.

Shame, for betraying Merlin's trust so easily, relief, that he wasn't the only one who knew, and guilt for still concealing so much.

He didn't dare tell Gwaine about Merlin's magic, about how badly the magic really affected him, and that Merlin and Emrys were one and the same.

But most of all, Lancelot didn't dare mention the fear he felt. Fear that Merlin was in danger, in more ways in one, not from the Wandrian, but from himself.

Lancelot was afraid.

* * *

Arthur stood in his chambers overlooking the city, his brow furrowed. The events of the past week rested heavily on his shoulders. Was this what it was like to be king?

He would soon find out.

He knew his father was broken, and that soon he would have to wear that crown and bear its weight. It was almost too much to stand.

The sorcerers were relentless, every supply of grain from the Outer Villages had been seized by them, the people were in a panic, hoarding food, causing chaos. The attack only that very morning had just made things ten times worse.

What confused him however, was how the supplies were not running low. Judging by how much was consumed in a day, and accounting for the fact it was not being replenished, he was stunned at how well they were holding out.

But despite this good fortune, he knew it was no use. The grain would eventually run out, and then where would his kingdom be?

He sighed and covered his head in his hands. He hated feeling useless, but what else was to be done? He could lead armies into battle quite easily, but when the enemy sneaked around like this instead of facing him in the open, it near impossible to fight. How on earth was he supposed to track sorcerers? He'd learned from his father's fruitless attempts that it was foolish to even try. They could vanish into thin air at will, even the best trained dogs couldn't find them.

Several had also started attacking outposts on the borders, but this time with greater success on Camelot's side. Somehow they were always prepared, and somehow managed to fight off the sorcerers with nothing but mortal weapons. How, he had no idea, but it gave him hope. What was strange however, was that the outposts kept receiving reinforcements just before an attack, even though Arthur had not ordered any.

He had no explanation, other than some god was having pity on them.

Ordinarily, he would have rode out himself to assist, but with his father in this state, he couldn't leave the city without a leader.

He felt weary beyond all measure.

A soft knock on the door, made him raise his head.

The door opened and Gwen slipped through it. Arthur felt relief sink into every part of his body at the sight of her.

She stepped towards him, standing at the window and as soon as she was close enough he reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She stiffened briefly in surprise before returning the embrace warmly. There they stood for several minutes neither caring for how long, before Arthur broke the embrace.

He looked down at her beautiful face and kissed her brow.

Gwen smiled sweetly and placed her hands on his arms.

"I've missed you Guinevere. It seems we never have time for each other now."

Gwen's brown eyes gazed up at him.

"You've had a lot on your mind. You're practically king after all. I can't expect you to drop all your important duties for me."

Arthur smiled.

"I would gladly do that for you."

Gwen shook her head sadly.

"The kingdom needs you right now Arthur, despite your personal feelings, your city should always come first."

Arthur frowned, not wanting to acknowledge this, but he supposed she was right. It still amazed him constantly how selfless and kind she was.

"But an unhappy leader doesn't make for a better kingdom does it?" he asked, reaching out to place her hand within two of his, his skin tingling at her touch.

She looked down at their entwined hands and smiled.

"No, I don't suppose it does."

She placed her other hand on top of his and brought it up to her lips and Arthur felt a soaring sensation deep within his chest.

Then it was all ruined by a certain gangly servant blundering through the doors.

Gwen released his hands quickly and jumped at the noise, but soon relaxed when she saw who it was.

Merlin stopped and stared at the two on them, a knowing grin spreading over his features.

"Sorry, _sire. _I didn't realise this, ahem, wasn't a good time. Should I come back later?"

Arthur buried his annoyance and vowed to give him extra work for a month for disturbing them.

However, despite his annoyance he was relieved to see Merlin back to his old self. The last two days had been miraculous in changing him back to who he had been before all this Emrys business had started. That was one small blessing.

"Just get on with your work Merlin."

Merlin grinned again.

"Of course sire."

He glanced knowingly at the pair of them before crossing the room, lifting an enormous pile of laundry and leaving again.

Arthur watched him leave. He wasn't going to get any peace from him now.

Gwen also watched him go.

"It good to see him so cheerful again."

Arthur agreed.

"Yes. Being miserable really didn't suit him."

Gwen laughed softly.

"I'll remember that, next time you're complaining about his endless optimism and over-cheerfulness."

Arthur smiled shrewdly.

"Everything in moderation."

Gwen laughed again, and he rejoiced in the sound.

She reached up on her toes and brushed her lips gently against his, placed her hand on his face for the briefest of moments, smiled, and turned away and left, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

Arthur watched her go too, revelling in the emotions she left behind her.

No matter how bad things looked with the sorcerers, as long as he had the people he cared about, nothing else mattered.

* * *

Night had fallen, and the moonlight filtered softly through to Merlin's room as he lay on his bed, contemplating the item in his hand. It was the dragon's tooth Gwaine had given to him. He'd barely let it out of his sight.

He couldn't explain how it felt to be in possession of such a thing. To think this had actually been his father's...

He admired it from every angle, awed at it's majesty and equal ferocity. To be in possession of something that had actually belonged to Balinor, it meant more than he could have imagined.

The way Gwaine had given it to him, so casually mentioning Balinor's name had hurt a little. He had seriously considered telling Gwaine the truth, about everything, Balinor, Emrys, the Wandrian at that moment, but something inexplicable had held him back. But he had decided, he would tell him someday.

It was amusing really. Both Merlin and Gwaine hadn't known their fathers growing up, yet they were both linked, unknown by either son. It was rather fitting he thought, that the tooth had wound up back within Balinor's bloodline. Gwaine's father had saved Merlin's, and both Gwaine and Merlin had saved each other's lives before. Merlin vowed, he would tell Gwaine of this connection. Soon.

Especially as he had greater reason to be grateful.

As soon as his hand had closed over the tooth, all the Dark Magic had seemed to vanish from within his body and mind. It soothed and relaxed him. Even when Merlin had made visits back to the Wandrian the last couple of nights, a reassuring touch of the tooth within his pocket was all that was needed to clear his mind of the darkness threatening to overwhelm it.

It had confused him at first, but then he had worked it out. He remembered Gehola from the Wandrian, he kept the Dark Magic at bay through visiting that single living tree in the Forest of No Life. Merlin had a theory, that it was the Old Religion keeping that tree alive, and Merlin knew that a dragon was also a creature of the Old Religion. It seemed he had finally found out how to keep the Dark Magic away; no matter how powerful it was, the inherent energy of the Old Religion was infinitely more powerful.

He smiled to himself. He was going to beat this.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Gaius shuffled into the room. He looked Merlin up and down critically and came and sat on the side of the bed and placed his hand on his forehead, then checked his pulse.

Merlin sighed inwardly; Gaius' constant checks were annoying, but at least they have him some sort of assurance.

Gaius looked at him.

"How are you Merlin?"

"I'm great Gaius, really I am." Merlin grinned, for once in the last week, saying what he felt.

Gaius looked down at Merlin's clenched fist.

"It does seem to be helping. You look much better."

"I feel it."

Gaius nodded, and then sighed.

"Honestly Merlin. An old man's last years should be spent in contentment and relaxation, but it seems I'm going to spend the rest of my life being constantly worried about you!"

Merlin frowned.

"You don't need to be Gaius. Everything's going to be fine now."

Gaius wasn't entirely convinced, and shook his head.

"You're going to be the death of me Merlin."

Merlin's stomach clenched.

"Don't say that Gaius. Don't ever say that."

The prophecy about Emrys had been running around in his mind non-stop for the previous few days:

"_A death shall mark his descent, a descent into the darkest form of existence. Only another death, can bring him back to the light, a sacrifice of one about whom he cares. If he succeeds he will lead the lands into a new era of light and golden days, if he fails, the world will descend into a fiery hell."_

He'd been trying to ignore it, telling himself that everything was fine now, he wasn't going to succumb to the darkness, but it still lay heavily on him.

Gaius didn't say anything more on the matter; Merlin hadn't told him about the prophecy.

Gaius stood up to leave, and Merlin sat up abruptly.

"Gaius?"

He turned.

Merlin swallowed.

"I'm sorry, for everything that's been happening. I never wanted to make you worry."

Gaius smiled.

"Don't concern yourself over it Merlin, worrying about you has now become my favourite pastime, no matter what else I might say. Especially after that ridiculous stunt with the sun and moon. What _were_ you thinking of? Almost everyone that's ever attempted it had died!"

Merlin grinned.

"Well, you always said I was special."

Gaius shook his head in exasperation. He looked down again at Merlin's hand, where the tooth was concealed.

"Have you thought any more on what I said?"

Merlin's good mood vanished.

"I have."

"And?"

Merlin looked down at his feet.

"I just don't see the point in calling for him."

"Merlin, if anyone can help you understand what's happening here, it's him. He's a creature of magic, for crying out loud, he might be able to help you."

"True." Merlin fell silent, not wanting to reveal the true reason he didn't want to call Kilgarrah. The prophecies he had read disturbed him greatly, and he feared what the dragon would say about them. He was afraid the dragon would confirm their validity, and that was exactly what Merlin had been trying to avoid doing the last couple of days. Kilgarrah's words echoed in his mind : "_None of us can choose our destiny Merlin. And none can escape it."_

He was afraid the prophecies would turn out to be true, and in that case he didn't feel he would be able to contain his anger at Kilgarrah never mentioning once the darker side to his 'destiny'.

But he could see Gaius' point. If there was anyone who could help him, it was Kilgarrah.

Merlin looked up again at Gaius, whose face was lined with concern.

"All right."

Half an hour later, Merlin stood in a clearing, a fair distance from Camelot, feeling great gusts of wind buffeting him from every direction, as the Great Dragon came in for his descent.

He landed, and folded up his great leathery wings, and bowed his massive head in reverence for the Dragonlord who had called him. Then he sat back and regarded Merlin with one massive amber eye.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something, but Kilgarrah beat him to it.

"I believe, young warlock, you have something there that belongs to me."

Merlin frowned in confusion.

"What?"

"I believe it resides in your pocket."

Comprehension dawned on Merlin, and the pulled out the tooth, looking at it in a new light.

"This was yours?" Wild and crazy theories came leaping into his head about how it had come to be in Balinor's possession.

"It _is _mine Merlin. However, as I have very little use for it now it has parted company from my mouth I will permit you to keep it. It has proved useful has it not? Particularly in light of recent events."

Merlin blinked.

"You know what's happening then?"

"I know pretty much everything that happens in these lands Merlin, and that's without the overwhelming presence of the Nameless Art."

"The Nameless Art?"

"What we of the Old Religion call Dark Magic. It is abhorrent to us, the very opposite of life and all that is good. We do not name it, for something of such evil deserves no name. It is unnatural, foul, pure evil."

Merlin was surprised at his sudden vehemence.

"You can feel it then?"

"Yes, young warlock, I feel nature's course being altered, life being reversed, goodness being corrupted, light becoming dark, the land becoming poisoned. I sensed it a long time ago. If it were not for your call I would now be far from this place, away from the stench of evil."

"It's the Wandrian. They're trying to take over Camelot."

"I do not doubt it. They ravished their own land centuries ago, destroying all the goodness that was there. The Forest of Bounty, became the Forest of No Life, the Anwyn Valley, a place of beauty and song, became a place forgotten in time. Dark Magic's lust for destroying is never sated. It must be eradicated, or it will lead to the doom of all."

Merlin nodded.

"I know."

And then he related the entire events of the past few weeks to the Dragon who watched him keenly with his glassy eyes.

When he had finished the Dragon regarded him intensely.

"It seems, young warlock, you find yourself in a dangerous situation."

Merlin was immediately angry.

"That's all you can say?"

"What would you wish me to say?"

"I don't know, how about an apology for never telling me the full prophecy? How you just happened to leave out the part where I fall into darkness and destroy the people I care about!"

Merlin felt blood rushing through his body, he was seething with rage. He was fed up of Kilgarrah always speaking in riddles, never answering questions directly, leaving out information that he deemed to be irrelevant.

Kilgarrah watched him as he raged.

"Anger," he contemplated quietly. "One of the emotions the Nameless Art rejoices to feed upon. Fear, hate, malice, you had better be careful Merlin."

Merlin's anger evaporated instantly.

"You mean it's true?" He breathed.

"No prophecy is true Merlin. Only once they are fulfilled can they be deemed true and by that point they are prophecy no longer and become a part of history."

Merlin sighed.

"Just give me a straight answer for once, please."

"Very well." The dragon drew himself up slightly. "Prophecies are many forked paths Merlin. One single decision may decide which path you take. True, it is your destiny to become a great sorcerer, and to protect Arthur and help him to become king, but one single little action may change that, and you'll find yourself following a different path."

Merlin breathed out.

"Then how do I avoid making the decisions that will take me down the alternate path?"

The dragon seemed to give a smug grin.

"You don't, which is why I never informed you of this part of the prophecy. Often simple knowledge of what may come will influence your actions to the worse. As long as you knew your destiny was to become a great and good man and sorcerer, you would do everything in your power to attain that, but, if you knew your destiny meant you _might_ fall prey to the darkness, you would do everything you could to avoid that, and the actions you take to avoid it may actually be what drives you to fall to it in the first place. Knowing too much of the future is harmful to any man, especially to you. You have two possible futures Merlin, but now you know both of them, it may make it more difficult to follow the right course."

Merlin was stunned, but soon found his voice again.

"You had no right to conceal anything from me!"

The dragon tilted his head.

"Is that so? Would you have wanted me to tell you you had an equal chance of turning out to be the world's most evil sorcerer as the world's greatest?"

Merlin hesitated.

"Yes," he said uncertainly. He knew Kilgarrah was right, but it still didn't change the fact that this future was still possible."Is there any way I can avoid it?"

"Yes. Put it out of your mind. Do not worry over what has not yet come to be."

Merlin huffed.

"Easier said than done."

The dragon chuckled, his entire huge body shaking, making Merlin even more annoyed.

Merlin stood thinking furiously for a moment, until he remembered the other thing that had been troubling him.

"And what of Morgana?"

The dragon's eyes flashed in anger.

"That is no debate. She has resigned herself to the darkness, and shall remain there."

"But the prophecy said she can still choose, that she can be redeemed!"

"The prophecy is false."

"But you just said-"

"There are some futures that are ambiguous Merlin, and some that are set in stone. You cannot pick and choose."

Merlin shook his head.

"A future cannot be set in stone. There's a chance Morgana can be saved, the prophecy said so, and I'm going to take it."

"Then it shall be your downfall Merlin. She cannot be saved, you must resign yourself to that."

"No, I won't." Merlin shook his head.

Kilgarrah growled in annoyance and a puff of smoke came from his nostrils.

"Did you continue with the prophecy Merlin? Did you reach the part where it mentioned she was an 'unleasher of magic', a 'storm' a 'tempest'?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, but I don't know what it means exactly."

"Then I shall tell you. Morgana's magic is not like yours, it is not controllable, not sustainable, it manifests itself when she does not want it. It is pure and untamed magic Merlin, untainted. And that is why she is so valuable to the practitioners of the Nameless Art. There is a portal, where the veil between this world and the world of the Dark is fragile and ripped. If this portal is opened, the Darkness shall invade and there shall be a Purge of the Light. Shadow, death, fear, hate, shall consume the land and all within it, and the Wandrian shall rule supreme. That is their aim. Once they have subjugated Camelot, they shall set their eyes on unleashing this horror upon the entire world, releasing every foul creature and evil form of magic to wreak havoc in their name. At present, it is guarded by the Druids, but they will fall easily to the might of the Wandrian. The portal can only be opened by pure and untainted magic, magic which is impossible to tame."

Merlin realised.

"Morgana."

"Now you see young warlock, why I always advised you to not let her know the true extent of her powers. The Wandrian seek to use her to unleash this horror. You must stop her."

Merlin was reeling with confusion, and his head was thumping. At that moment he wished the art of prophecy had never been invented.

"I'm still going to try."

"Then you try in vain," sniffed the dragon. He looked up at the moon and then back down at Merlin. "Remember Merlin, you too are of the Old Religion, you have a better chance than most of resisting the urges of the Evil Art. But do not be complacent, you are still susceptible. Keep that tooth of mine close. Do not be so hasty to part with it as your father was. It will protect you, for as long as you wish to be protected."

And with that final statement, the dragon spread his wings and leapt off from the ground, almost throwing Merlin to the ground with the force of his wings and rose up higher and higher into the night sky, until he was only visible as a dark shadow against the stars.

Merlin was left alone in the clearing. He had a great deal to think about.

* * *

**A/N: A few points: It's amazing the amount of people who PM'd me or reviewed asking where the Great Dragon was, and it all had to be just before the chapter where he was going to make an appearance anyway so, that amused me slightly :) I know most of you want Merlin to start trusting Gwaine, all I can say is, all in good time! I have a plan ;)**

**Also, majorly sorry for not replying to reviews and PM s, the system hates me, so I wasn't receiving them, and then when I did it wouldn't let me reply coz of some new upgrade or something. Anyways, sorry again, and just to let you know your feedback is very greatly appreciated and really helps to shape the story. I'm really grateful! :D**

**And also, I give you all permission to throw stuff at me If I haven't updated by next Saturday, I'm really bad at the moment for regular updates! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hey Merlin fans! Life just...got in the way. But I'm back! Exams are over, I've now officially left school, University doesn't start for another three months, Prom and Dancing Shows are out of the way so hopefully, HOPEFULLY, I'll have more time on my hands, but then again, I always say that.**

**Well, it's three in the morning, I'm buzzing from an overdose of caffeine and chocolate and I just watched the last ever Harry Potter trailer (EPIC btw) which made me feel like crying, and I have the Lol, Limewire song stuck in my head (if you don't know what this is, type in lol limewire to Google and click 'I'm feeling lucky'= HAHA!) so I apologise if this chap is kina crappy...enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 10- Confiding...almost**

Arthur hardly dared to breathe. His heart was racing and he felt the familiar fire surging through his body in anticipation. He crept ever so slowly forward through the undergrowth, as low to the ground as possible, his sword in his hand ready, and hearing the faint rustling of branches behind him telling him his Knights were keeping close to his tail.

Two weeks he had waited for this moment, waiting for any whisper of the whereabouts of the Wandrian, putting up with attack after attack on their outposts and supplies and now it was finally here. It had started with a villager coming to the city crying out in fear after he had spotted several men with a permanent encampment within the woods; men with coal black eyes and rotted flesh.

He could almost smell the rancid flesh as he came closer and closer to the dim light of a fire through the trees, dusk having fallen a few hours earlier. He could hear them talking; harsh guttural voices that sent shivers up his spine. _Only a little bit closer..._

He paused, and looked a few feet in front of him. Around a flickering fire which seemed to be green in colour, were hunched several men, if men they could be called, with eyes as black as night and bones protruding through mottled skin. Arthur held back a retch of disgust. What sort of evil was this, that ruined their bodies like this? And how could they hope to contend with it?

But now was not the time for despair, this was a time for action.

He felt someone creep slowly to his side and whisper into his ear, recognising Lancelot at the last minute.

"What do we do Sire?"

Arthur turned his head slightly to look at him.

"Exactly as we planned Lancelot."

Lancelot frowned.

"But we did not expect so many, and how are we to defend ourselves against their magic?"

"We must do the best we can Lancelot," Arthur huffed in annoyance; they had been through this many times. "This is the best lead we've had, and I'll be damned if we throw this opportunity away We don't need to defeat them, just cause as much damage as possible."

"So we're relying on the element of surprise then? My favourite." Gwaine had approached Arthur on his other side.

A sudden thunk and a whispered "Ow!" made Arthur curse silently.

"Damn you Merlin, can't you ever stay quiet?"

He heard a whispered apology but he was no longer listening, instead he was observing the sorcerers extremely carefully. As far as he could tell they seemed to be on edge, as though waiting for something and speaking in serious tones, not the sort of care-free chatter you would expect from a group of people unaware they were about to be ambushed. A feeling of dread ran through him, all his instincts were telling him to run. Somehow, they knew.

"We need-" He spoke to Lancelot and Gwaine, but the rest of his words were drowned out by yells from the back of their group. He spun around in time to see two bodies flying through the air, flashes of green light, and two black robed figures with outstretched palms and black eyes, laughing, a nasty gurgling in their throats, no doubt caused by the blood spilling out of their mouths and down their fronts.

Arthur felt sick to his stomach, but he had no time for any other reaction to their foulness.

The sorcerers they had observed in the clearing had jumped up and were now throwing torrents of green energy towards the Knights their eyes glinting maliciously. Arthur leapt out of the way just in time before a magical bolt obliterated the ground on which he had been standing seconds before. He saw most of his Knights crouched down, avoiding the green light which was now soaring over their heads.

Arthur couldn't breathe; what was he to do?

A horrid stench came from behind him and he knew who was standing there. He wheeled around yelling, with his sword flying out in front of him, reflexes as quick as lightning. He felt his sword connect with flesh and bone as it sliced through the person standing behind him.

He saw before him one of the sorcerers, his black eyes narrowed in pain crying out a terrible harrowing scream of agony as he fell to his knees. Arthur's sword caught his eye, the blade was not smeared with red, but black. In horror, Arthur looked down at the man's abdomen where he had struck him, and spilling out was not blood, but a putrid black liquid, congealed and viscous, falling on to the forest floor with a sick plopping sound.

Arthur was almost too horrified to move.

More shouting behind him drew his attention and he turned to see his Knights fighting against the sorcerers. They struck out with their swords again and again, making no contact, the sorcerers seeming to have some sort of magical defence around their bodies, and the sorcerers blasts of magic always seeming to only just miss them. Arthur didn't have time to wonder why.

He ran forwards and engaged himself in the fight, but he soon knew it was no use. His sword continued to batter uselessly against some sort of magical shield, never even reaching close to its mark. The sorcerers continued to grin manically with grotesque faces, evidently enjoyed their futile attempts to defeat them. Arthur knew the situation was hopeless.

"Retreat!" he shouted with the full force of his lungs. "Get back!"

His Knights obeyed without question, and the laughing of the sorcerers increased in volume. They began to make taunting shouts but Arthur ignored them; pride was no excuse for getting his men killed.

He turned his back and ran, trying not to think of the shame his father would have at him giving up so easily. He paused only to grab Merlin who had been cowering behind a tree as usual, and they continued on. Blasts of magic flew over their heads, and they swerved and ducked to avoid them. The laughter continued on, but getting quieter and quieter, with no sounds of pursuit. It seemed the sorcerers thought them too little of a threat to bother themselves about them.

Arthur felt the shame almost overcome him, but he strived to remind himself; if they had stayed they would most surely have died. It wasn't worth it. They had been the ones who had been ambushed.

They continued on without stopping for some time, and by the time they did stop they all stood still for many minutes to catch their breath, no one speaking.

Finally Gwaine broke the silence.

"Why is it I feel they're the ones who had the element of surprise?"

Arthur agreed. They had known they were coming. They'd only managed to kill _one._

"Sire!" Percival called out.

Arthur moved towards him and found he and Elyan were supporting Sir Derian and Sir Deorc. With a jolt Arthur remembered these as the Knights he had placed as the back of the group, and were the ones hit by the magic. After he had seen the damage the Dark Magic had done to the ground, he hadn't expected them to still be alive.

Yet alive they were, and apart from extreme exhaustion, there seemed to be little wrong with them. Their tunics had been burned and Arthur could see the flesh underneath being red raw and peeling, but not looking any worse than a burn one would get after spending too long in the sun. Their faces were white and gaunt looking, but there was definitely life there.

Arthur was beyond confusion. How could they have survived?

Their own bewilderment was written across their faces and that of his Knights. They all looked at him with uncertainty.

"Are you able to walk?"

They both answered with weak "Yes, Sire"s.

"Good. We need to get to back to Camelot and have Gaius take a look at you."

They nodded, and Arthur moved away and motioned for Lancelot, Gwaine, Merlin, Elyan, Leon and Percival to come closer.

Elyan burst out immediately: "I thought Dark Magic was supposed to be really powerful, how come it's hardly hurt them at all?"

"I have no idea," Arthur answered honestly. "Perhaps there was something Gaius or Geoffrey failed to mention to us about it?"

"Perhaps," murmured Lancelot and Arthur noticed his eyes were fixed upon Merlin, who was still staring at Derian and Deorc with a worried look. Arthur felt a twinge of concern; he'd noticed Merlin being tired and distracted all day, ever since he had told him about the planned attack.

"Miraculous as their condition may be Sire, we have more pressing matters on our hands," said Leon.

"Agreed," Arthur spoke, his voice with a steely edge to it. "I want to know, how they found out, how they expected us."

His Knights stood silent for a moment.

"Someone must have told them Sire, it's the only explanation." Elyan said, his breathing ragged.

Arthur once again agreed. Someone in Camelot was a traitor.

He looked around at them all, looking at each of them carefully, but soon came to his conclusion. No, it can't have been one of them. Aside from the fact he knew none of them would have betrayed him, they had all been there with him, placing themselves in the same danger. It can't have been one of them. He trusted them all.

"I won't for a moment believe it was any of you who told them, which leaves us with one option: someone in Camelot, someone in the Royal Court no less, is a spy and a traitor."

Arthur couldn't help but see the similarities to events over the last year, Camelot had proven itself susceptible to a spy once before, in the shape of the King's own ward, had it fallen again to a traitor?

"Must we go that far Sire?" asked Lancelot. "After all, we must remember these are sorcerers we are dealing with. They have ways of knowing things, and the means to do things we would deem impossible. They could have detected our presence by magic long before we reached them."

Although this was a plausible theory, Arthur shook his head.

"Normally I would think the same Lancelot, but this is not an isolated incident. All of our attacks have been anticipated, all of our transports have been intercepted no matter how many times we changed the route. There is most definitely someone leaking information from the castle."

His Knights looked grave as they considered this, and Arthur felt a prick of anger. Once again, someone in Camelot, someone they trusted was helping to bring it down from the inside. It made his blood boil to think about it. He felt dizzy, and nauseous, but he wasn't sure it was solely because of the betrayal.

"We should get back to Camelot and see Gaius; there's no telling how that magic could have affected us. I don't know about you lot, but I don't feel on top of my game."

His Knights nodded in agreement and began to depart, but Gwaine spoke suddenly.

"Don't you think it's strange though? The Wandrian seem to be completely obsessed with destroying Camelot and taking over the land, but for all their ruthless threats, no one's actually died."

Arthur paused; the same thought had occurred to him. Of all the supply wagons and outposts attacked, there had not been a single casualty on Camelot's side.

Gwaine continued:

"We keep hearing about how evil this Emrys is, and how ruthless and dark he is, but he's not what I expected. According to that man with the first seized wagon, he ordered that no one should be killed, even though the others wanted to. And he said that Emrys wasn't like the others, his skin wasn't rotten, and his eyes went gold instead of green when he used magic, which implied to him that he wasn't using Dark Magic. If Emrys really was as dangerous as all that, how come he's not killing people left, right and centre?"

"Because," said Percival, "a man doesn't need to kill people to be dangerous."

"Remember Gwaine," said Elyan. "Remember the corpse that came crashing down into the Throne Room with Emrys' name carved into it? And remember how they're slowly starving us? The grain supply is holding steady for now, but after it's gone, the people will have almost nothing to eat. The Wandrian are making the people afraid, and that'll cause more damage than several massacres. The fact they're _not _killing people makes me more concerned. The threat of what they'll do is proving more dangerous than what they've actually done. We shouldn't underestimate them, because when the time comes, they _will_ be ruthless."

Gwaine nodded, looking thoughtful.

"It's too bad," observed Leon. "It would've been nice to know there was someone among the Wandrian who was on our side."

Arthur nodded in agreement, but couldn't help but notice Lancelot and Gwaine's eyes swivelling towards Merlin at that point.

"Right, we'll leave now for Camelot. We'd better not stay here any longer in case they decide to come back."

The Knights murmured their assent and they set off through the forest to the river bank where they had tied up their horses. Arthur couldn't help but notice Merlin's blank look in his tired eyes. He looked as though he was deep in thought and he was being extremely quiet, both of which didn't suit him.

Half an hour later, they reached the river bank only to find the horses splayed out on the ground in pools of blood, their guts spilling out onto the earth. Scorch marks surrounded the wounds and on the trees to which they had been tethered, the Dark Magic symbol was burned onto the bark. Arthur felt a shudder run through his body at the sight of it.

Gwaine stood looking at the horses and said quietly:

"They managed to kill the horses, but not us?"

Arthur stood by him.

"I'd rather it be the horses than any of you."

Gwaine turned to him.

"Didn't you notice how those attacks always seemed to just miss us? How they never hit their target?"

"Yes, we were very lucky."

"But don't you think it's strange-"

"Yes Gwaine!" Arthur almost shouted. "There's nothing that's happened in the last two weeks that hasn't been strange! They're sorcerers, what do you expect? They use Dark Magic, they don't abide by the laws of nature! I'm done trying to understand them, all we have to do is try and fight them!"

"You need to understand them Arthur, if you ever expect to defeat them." Merlin spoke very quietly, his eyes fixed on the horse's carcasses.

Arthur breathed out irritatedly. "And what would you know about it Merlin?"

"Nothing." Merlin still stared at the horses, looking so melancholy Arthur just got more annoyed.

"Don't be such a softy Merlin, they're just horses. Remember that time you got all soppy over the unicorn?"

"Well, I had good reason to didn't I?"

Arthur ignored this.

"We'll just have to walk. We'll stop by the nearest village for some horses for the wounded."

Arthur turned to leave and noticed yet again Lancelot and Gwaine's eyes were fixed on Merlin. They set off again and as soon as the two of them were far enough ahead, Arthur doubled back to talk to Merlin.

"All right, is there something you're not telling me? Have you grown an extra pair of hands from your shoulders that I haven't noticed?"

Merlin frowned.

"No, why?"

"Because Lancelot and Gwaine keep staring at you as though you're about to explode."

Merlin bit his lip.

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. Gaius just probably asked them to keep an eye on me to make sure I'm not sick again."

"You're not are you?"

"Course not, I'm fine. I'm always fine." Merlin gave a ridiculous grin and walked ahead of Arthur, thus ending their conversation.

Arthur frowned. Merlin was definitely concealing something again. Although he didn't look ill any more, and hadn't for the last two weeks Arthur could tell there was still something on his mind.

But there were more urgent matters at the moment. He had to figure out what to do next, how to defeat the Wandrian. Because, based on that last encounter, they seemed to be pretty much invincible, albeit with bad aim.

But he wasn't going to despair just yet. They'd defeated a dragon, Cenred's soldiers, animate stone gargoyles and an immortal army before now. They would not give up.

* * *

Merlin was exhausted. All night he'd been up, talking to Hafela and Gamol putting on the cold Emrys exterior. Then he'd had five minutes of precious sleep before Arthur had dragged him out of bed to go and chase up some lead to where some of the Wandrian were camped out; a lead only created by Merlin himself when he had placed a false memory in a villager, which, by the way had not been an easy feat of magic. Then he had spent all day riding through the kingdom with the Knights looking for them, trying to find a spare moment to slip away and warn the group, which had also included Wrecan, the Wandrian Elder with a grudge against Merlin. Then he had had to place magical wards around the Knights to make sure they weren't hit by magic after he had forgotten to place them on Derian and Deorc until the last second, resulting in minor burns, magic which he was sure Lancelot had seen, all the while pretending to be absolutely fine while trying to shake off the suspicion that Gwaine knew something and Arthur was becoming suspicious. If it wasn't for that tooth holding off the effects of Dark Magic Merlin knew he would probably be dead from exhaustion.

He was completely shattered.

He wanted to just go back to Gaius' and curl up in bed and hibernate. For a _long _while.

But it didn't happen.

On their arrival in Camelot they had all spent hours and hours with the King and his advisers going over and over the attack trying to deduce how they could have found out, always coming to the same conclusion: there was a spy among them. And Merlin was too exhausted to even worry about being discovered.

After Gaius had treated Derian and Deorc's burns, remarking how lucky they had been to escape with something so minor, he had given them all a 'Restorative Draught' to try and make them feel better after the encounter with the Dark Magic. Although Merlin had been unaffected due to the presence of the dragon tooth in his pocket, the others had not. Though none of them were as ill as he had been, they were all paler than usual and significantly weaker.

After the final meeting they all made their way through the massive oak doors and Merlin made a beeline straight for Gaius'. He needed to sleep...

But then, Lancelot stepped in front, stopping him.

He looked around nervously and then stepped closer to him.

"You want to be careful Merlin. I saw you there, using magic. I assume you were responsible for those curses missing us every time? If I saw you, so could any of the rest of them. Thank God I was the only one who was looking. Just be careful all right?"

Merlin nodded, he knew he had been careless and not exactly discrete. He would have to be more careful next time.

Lancelot clapped him on the shoulder and strode past him and Merlin thought he was free now until-

"Merlin?"

Merlin sighed in annoyance, why couldn't they leave him alone? But when he turned and saw Gwaine's face, his annoyance evaporated. Gwaine had never fixed him with a stare so intense before.

Gwaine motioned with his head to a small chamber off the main corridor and Merlin entered. Gwaine followed behind and closed the door. Once again he stared at Merlin intensely, and Merlin no longer had any doubts: Gwaine knew.

Gwaine breathed out, as though preparing himself for the worst.

"What's going on Merlin?"

Merlin opened his mouth to give his usual "Nothing, I'm fine" speech, but he knew it was no good lying to him.

Instead, he said:

"How long have you known?"

Gwaine answered:

"Two weeks."

"How do you know?"

"I figured most of it out myself. Lancelot confirmed the details."

Merlin closed his eyes and tried to stay calm. The fact Gwaine hadn't turned him in boded well, it may even mean Gwaine was willing to help him. Merlin knew, as he'd always done, Gwaine was to be trusted.

Merlin opened his eyes.

"So? What do you think of my decision?"

Gwaine looked at him squarely, being more serious than Merlin had ever seen him before.

"I think you're crazy. I think you're mad. I think you're insane. I think you must have some sort of death wish to be willingly fraternising with evil, bloodthirsty sorcerers when their very presence makes you ill and risking so much for everyone and keeping it secret. I think you're a complete idiot for undertaking such a foolhardy mission when the most likely outcome is that you'll be discovered and killed in a horrible brutal manner by either the Wandrian or Uther when they find out what you've been doing."

He paused, and Merlin braced himself for more.

"And I also think Merlin, that you're the bravest, most loyal, dedicated, unselfish man I have ever known."

Merlin blinked.

"Then you don't hate me?"

Gwaine laughed.

"When could I ever hate you Merlin?"

Merlin felt relief sink through him, and he laughed as well.

"I just thought, after every thing I've done..." He trailed off, unsure how to express himself.

Gwaine folded his arms.

"After everything you've done Merlin, you deserve to be knighted."

Merlin smiled to himself, remembering when Lancelot had said something similar.

Gwaine hesitated.

"I admit Merlin, I wasn't too happy when I first found out. I thought you were placing yourself in too much risk and I almost told Arthur. But then I realised, this is the perfect opportunity, and whether I like it or not, I have to let you do this. I just wish you'd told me sooner, I could've helped."

Merlin felt a little twinge of guilt.

"I know, but something always stopped me, I'm not sure what. I guess I was just afraid what you'd think of me. I couldn't bear to think that you'd hate me."

Gwaine smiled. "Are you going to tell Arthur?"

"No!" Merlin shouted. Gwaine raised his eyebrows. "I mean, not yet anyway. I'm not ready to tell him. And I don't think he's ready to hear it yet, to know that his idiot of a man servant is more than he appears. Besides, it's better that less people know. It makes it easier."

Gwaine nodded. "Then he won't hear it from me."

Merlin grinned.

Gwaine hesitated a couple of moments.

"So...what's he like?"

Merlin stood completely still. He couldn't mean what he thought he meant could he? Not now, not when Merlin thought he was done with secrets.

"Who?" he asked, almost dreading the answer.

"Emrys of course!"

Merlin felt the excitement and relief he had felt drain away. He should have expected this, Lancelot would never tell Gwaine about Merlin's magic. Gwaine only had half a story. Would he be as accepting if he had known all of it?

For a moment, Merlin seriously considered telling Gwaine. Everything else was out in the open, what was one more secret? Gwaine wouldn't hate him, he wouldn't. He could trust him. Couldn't he?

He said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. He felt as though he were hanging over the edge of a precipice, about to fall, and the only thing saving him was this one last secret. If he gave that away, he could never go back. Everything would be over.

Why was he hesitating? It should be simple. Gwaine had openly told Merlin about his father consorting with a Dragonlord, that must mean he didn't hate magic, mustn't it? He knew about magic, he wasn't prejudiced like Uther. He could tell him couldn't he?

But how could he just come out with it like that? Telling Gwaine he was the man he had been fighting against for weeks, the man Gwaine believed to be evil? He couldn't just tell him all of a sudden. He couldn't tell him, not yet. It wasn't time, but he knew it would be soon.

Gwaine raised his eyebrows again.

"Wow, he must be really scary to shut you up like that."

Merlin froze for one more instant. Should he?

He opened his mouth:

"He's...he's different."

Gwaine tilted his head.

"Different how?"

Merlin felt like he was drowning, flailing around for a lifeline.

"He's not like the other sorcerers."

"You've met him then?"

Merlin laughed in spite of himself.

"Yeah, I've met him."

"Well?"

"He's not pure evil, I know you're not going to believe that, but he's not. He doesn't want to kill people, he doesn't enjoy it, he just wants what's best for his people."

Merlin felt his mouth dry up. He hated this, he hated it.

Gwaine frowned.

"And he thinks taking over Camelot is what's best for his people?"

Merlin hesitated.

"It's more complex than that."

Gwaine sighed.

"The internal politics of sorcerers...sounds too complicated for me. Do you think he's dangerous?"

Merlin thought back to when the Dark Magic had been affecting him.

"Yes, I think he can be."

"Then he's an enemy to Camelot,' Gwaine said shortly.

Merlin shook his head.

"It's not like that."

"He's trying to take over Camelot Merlin, trying to defeat us all. How is that not being our enemy?"

"He doesn't use Dark Magic."

Gwaine looked at him strangely.

"That doesn't make him a good man Merlin. Why are you defending him?"

Merlin was speechless once again. Gwaine stepped closer.

"Merlin?"

"I-I...I'm not defending him! I'm just saying...I don't know what I'm saying. Emrys, he's-he's not as evil and ruthless as he's made out to be. You thought the same thing in the forest!"

"I'm not sure what I thought Merlin, all I know is that he confuses me, I can't make him out."

Gwaine stepped even closer.

"Are you friends with him Merlin?"

Merlin almost laughed at the absurdity.

"No, course not."

Gwaine surveyed him critically.

"Good. I wouldn't want you mixing with them unless you need to."

Merlin nodded, still feeling the immense guilt of concealing the whole story. Why couldn't he tell Gwaine?

Gwaine looked him up and down.

"I thought the Dark Magic made you ill. You must be meeting them, why aren't you sick?"

This time, Merlin knew he owed Gwaine the truth.

He took a deep breath and put his hand into his pocket and pulled out Kilgarrah's tooth. Gwaine watched it curiously.

"This protects me."

Gwaine stared, not convinced.

"Merlin I wasn't serious when I gave you that and said it protected you. I was just trying to make you feel better."

Merlin shook his head.

"It's of the Old Religion. It's the opposite of Dark Magic, and it stops me feeling its effects."

Gwaine still looked bemused.

"But, it's just a tooth."

Merlin sighed in exasperation.

"And have you seen me ill since you gave it to me?"

Gwaine fell silent, thinking back, before his face lit up.

"You mean, I helped you? I helped you and I didn't even realise! Ha!"

Merlin laughed.

"Yes, you did."

Gwaine was still grinning.

"That's why you were all weird when I gave you it. Like you were thinking really hard about something."

Merlin stopped.

"Actually, I had no idea it would help until afterwards."

Gwaine's smile fell and he looked puzzled.

"Then, what _were_ you thinking about?"

Merlin paused, holding his breath. Should he tell? After all, he owed Gwaine at least some of his secrets.

"I was thinking...I was thinking about how this tooth, how this tooth had once belonged to my father."

Gwaine's face screwed up in confusion and he looked at Merlin as though he was mad.

"Um, Merlin? It belonged to _my _father."

Merlin shook his head.

"It belonged to both. Only, my father had it first."

Gwaine looked confused for a couple minutes more, before comprehension dawned.

"Balinor?" He breathed. Merlin nodded.

Gwaine stood there staring at him for a couple moments saying nothing, and Merlin almost began to regret telling him.

But Gwaine was soon smiling again.

"It makes sense. From what you told me about your father, about Balinor, it makes perfect sense. Let me guess, Uther had him banished from Camelot during the Purge, during which time he probably met your mother and had to leave again, years later the Great Dragon escaped and you and Arthur had to go and find him, you met him, and then he died. Am I close?"

Merlin gave a wry smile.

"Almost perfect. Uther tried to have him executed before he left, Gaius helped him escape."

Gwaine whistled. "And I thought my father had had a rough time of it."

He didn't say anything for a moment. Then he started laughing.

"Ha! What would Arthur say? His father tried to kill yours! A Dragonlord! The son of a man with magic being the servant of the son of the man who hates magic! It's quite ironic if you think about it. I'm guessing Arthur doesn't know? Good, that means we're the better friends; my father saved yours, not tried to execute him like Arthur's did."

Merlin laughed as well, why had he been hesitant?

Gwaine suddenly looked interested.

"What happens to a Dragonlord's ability when they die? Is it passed on?"

Merlin was once again faced with a decision; should he tell him?

"Well-"

A knock on the door interrupted him in mid-sentence, and Merlin wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed.

The door opened, and a servant walked in.

"Please, Sir Gwaine, Prince Arthur requires your presence immediately."

Gwaine cast one long look at Merlin before looking back at the servant.

"I'm coming."

Merlin made to follow the servant too, but he was stopped.

"Not you Merlin. Prince Arthur said you've to go to bed and sleep. He said you look awful and if you collapse from exhaustion in his chambers he swears he'll use you as a floor rug."

Merlin gulped. He didn't doubt the seriousness of the threat.

"I'll be going then," said Merlin, and Gwaine nodded.

They both emerged from the chamber and set off in opposite directions. Just before Gwaine and the servant were out of earshot, Merlin heard Gwaine ask:

"So what's happening, why does Arthur want me?"

"He needs your help Sir Gwaine. We've captured one of the Wandrian."-

Merlin froze. He knew, no matter how tired he was, he was getting no sleep tonight.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know loads of you are going to hate me for not having Merlin tell Gwaine the whole truth like you want me to, but have faith! It's all going to come out soon! **

**So, next chapter, hopefully some more action, and if you're lucky, and I can stop myself from being carried away, Morgana might even make an appearance...;) Is she gonna be evil or good? Is she gonna be redeemed or stay an evil witch? Let me know what you think?**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews mean the world to me...hint hint ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey! Thanks guys for all the amazing reviews you've been giving! They're awesome! So I've decided to reward you and also apologise for my sporadic updates: I've got three chapters written and I'll be uploading them ALL today, hence, I didn't get a minutes sleep last night, partly coz my wee sister had a birthday sleepover and teenage girls are LOUD! So, enjoy! :D**

* * *

**Chapter 11- Interrogation**

Arthur ran his hand tiredly over his face. Just when he'd been anticipating a good night's rest something else had to come up. He'd barely sat down in his chambers when a servant had come rushing in, probably the only servant besides Merlin who'd ever dared enter the Prince's chambers without knocking, and started ranting about how one of the scouting parties had picked up one of the Wandrian.

It must have been a pretty foolish one to have been caught so easily even with magic on his side, but Arthur didn't hesitate. He'd immediately leapt up, pushing away his fatigue, sent the servant to round up his Knights and headed off for the Throne Room.

He was standing there now in the empty stone room, alone save for a single guard, waiting, his body pulsing with anticipation. Finally, something had gone _right_.

He jumped as the massive doors opened, but it was only Gwaine and Lancelot entering, discussing something intently. However as soon as they saw him in the room they broke off abruptly. Arthur frowned slightly; he hadn't gotten the impression they'd particularly hit it off straight away, why would they be talking about something so secretly?

He shook it off however.

They both frowned as they approached, looking around.

"He isn't here yet," Arthur spoke, answering their unasked question. "I wanted to wait until everyone was here before I had him brought in."

They both nodded, and they waited in silence. Arthur had to resist the urge to start pacing up and down.

Finally, the great doors opened once again and Elyan, Percival and Leon entered. He signalled for them to close the doors and draw closer, which they did.

Leon looked around in confusion.

"It's just us? I thought the King and the Royal Court would be interested in this."

Arthur nodded grimly.

"That's exactly what I thought too. But I think, that until we figure out where the leak is, we'd best leave the Royal Court out of it. If anyone asks, this man is just an ordinary run-of-the-mill thief. We can't let anyone know who he really is."

His Knights nodded in agreement.

"Old Uther's not going to be best pleased is he when he finds out is he?" said Gwaine, sounding mildly amused.

"He scarcely notices anything at present," frowned Arthur, feeling a small twinge of pain. "And mind how you talk about him. He's the King, not 'Old Uther'.

Gwaine fell silent, but he still had a playful look on his face. Arthur couldn't help but be annoyed. Couldn't he take anything seriously?

"Right," he said. "The prisoner isn't going to be too pleased when we bring him out so I suggest-"

"Wait," interrupted Lancelot, looking around. "Where's Merlin?"

Gwaine gave a short laugh.

"Arthur threatened to turn him into a floor covering if he didn't get some sleep. You know Lancelot, he _was _awfully busy last night."

Arthur's curiosity rose.

"What was he doing last night?"

Lancelot and Gwaine both said at once: "Running an errand for Gaius."

Arthur didn't believe them for a second. They were obviously covering up for him somehow. Still, he supposed it didn't matter. Whatever Merlin did in his spare time was his own concern.

"It's probably best he isn't here. Gaius says Dark Magic is harmful to the body; I don't want him getting ill again. I couldn't put up with that bloody boot-licker of a servant I had last time he was ill again."

"What if the Dark Magic harms _us?" _Percival asked.

"That's what I was getting to." Arthur started again impatiently. "Apparently, so the guard tells me, on the outposts they have a potion of sorts that they believe neutralises a man's magic temporarily. I'm doubtful of its authenticity, but it seems to be working, the man's made no move to escape, regardless of how unpleasant he is. I'm not sure how long it's supposed to work for, so we'd better be quick about questioning him, so we can put him in a cell before it wears off and have him guarded."

Gwaine snorted.

"Do you think a simple stone cell is going to hold a sorcerer?"

"It's always worked in the past!" Arthur retorted in annoyance.

"So you've never had an escape then?"

Arthur faltered for a moment. Maybe he was right.

"We'll double the guard then, and talk to Gaius, see if he can't make the effects of that potion permanent. Right, we're wasting time, we'd better get this over with. Prepare yourselves."

Arthur signalled to the guard in the room, who entered a smaller antechamber, emerging with two more guards and a man being dragged between them, his face covered by a hood. The stench reached them all long before the man did. Arthur fought the urge to vomit.

The guards threw him down ungraciously in front of Arthur and the Knights before retreating hurriedly to as far away as they could while still being in range of the prisoner.

Arthur felt the now all-too-familiar effect of the Dark Magic now beginning to take hold. It hung over him like a dark shadow, making him feel weaker, unsteady on his feet, but he was determined to keep his mind clear.

"Who are you?" he asked the man coldly. The man still lay there on the ground unmoving.

He lay there for several moments, still not moving. The atmosphere was tense and Arthur felt his temper start to wear thin, his nerves being closer to the surface than they normally were.

"I asked you a question!" he shouted. "I, Prince Arthur of Camelot command you to answer! Who are you?"

A horrible sound came from the spot where the man lay, a choking, guttural noise that sent shivers up Arthur's spine. With horror, he realised it was laughter.

The man finally raised his head and looked directly at them, and his hood fell back. Arthur almost felt his heart stop in shock. He noticed out the corner of his eye, Percival had taken a step back and drawn his sword with a curse.

The man's face, if it could be called that, was nothing more than a few ragged pieces of black flesh clinging to bone around the eyes which were black as coal. His skull was clearly visible, the whiteness of it leapt out at them like a ghost, like a mask. The rest of the man's body was not visible except where his robe had slipped a little down his skinny frame. Both his collar bones were visible, and here, even the bone looked rotten. And still, the man continued to laugh, his mouth, no, his _jawbone, _open exposing a rotten mass which must have once been a tongue.

"Who am I?" He choked out with difficulty, black congealed blood coming from somewhere in his throat, still laughing. "Your worst nightmare!"

And he fell back into a fit of hysterical laughter, even more of the black liquid spilling from his throat and lying there in lumps on the stone floor.

One of the guards took this opportunity and ran from the hall looking rather green and holding his hands up to his mouth. Arthur heard him retching violently outside the doors. Arthur didn't try and call him back, he felt like doing the same thing himself.

The man, or what was left of him, continued to lie on the floor writing around cackling to himself as more black liquid was purged from him. _How is he still alive in such a state as this?_ Arthur found himself wondering with disgust.

He turned to his Knights, and saw similar looks on their own faces.

He turned back.

"Unless you want to die a long and slow painful death I suggest you cease that infernal racket immediately. If you'd prefer the less painful option then you'd better start talking. What can you tell us about Emrys?"

The man stopped immediately, rather to Arthur's surprise. He pulled himself up slightly with what Arthur saw as being almost skeletal hands. He looked into Arthur's own eyes soberly, and it was all Arthur could do not to pull his away.

"You think this isn't slow and painful already? Can you honestly look at me and not see that?"

Arthur, sniffed, then immediately wished he hadn't. "It isn't any business nor concern of mine over what you decided to inflict upon your own body."

The man continued to stare at him unnervingly.

"You think this is optional? You think this is what I began studying magic all those years ago for? All it took was one little experiment with a different sort of magic and that was it. No going back. It grips you like a plague. It never lets go. Until death do us part."

He began cackling again, his eyes dancing with madness. Arthur sighed inwardly, they were getting nowhere.

"Tell me what you know of Emrys, and I will insure your death is a quick and painless one."

The man took on a look of temporary sanity again.

"I've never met him. But from what I've heard, he's nothing more than an upstart boy who knows as little about Dark Magic as you do."

Arthur felt Lancelot draw closer when he heard this.

"He doesn't use Dark Magic?" Arthur breathed; he'd hardly dared believe the rumours before now.

The man sniggered.

"Not a drop of it. Wouldn't know how I guess. He doesn't want to pollute his own perfect body. But he's powerful all right, Dark Magic or no."

"Then what does he want?" Gwaine asked.

The man sniggered again.

"How should I know? He's always cooped up with Hafela discussing hell knows what."

"Who is Hafela?" Arthur asked, suspicion growing.

The man grinned grotesquely.

"Pack leader ain't he?"

Arthur blinked. He remembered what the supply wagon guard had said; he hadn't thought Emrys was the leader.

"Then who is Emrys? If he's not the leader?"

The man cackled.

"How should I know? Emrys couldn't be leader if he tried. He's powerful enough sure, probably the most powerful of the lot of us. But he ain't one of us. He doesn't have the Eyes yet."

"The Eyes?"

"First sign someone's been tampering with the Dark Art," the man seemed overjoyed at this. "From what I hear, you'd best be keeping an eye on the members of your Court for that."

As much as he wanted to run the other way, Arthur reached forward and seized the man's robes.

"Who is the traitor?"

The man just laughed again.

"Innit obvious? Emrys himself."

Arthur felt a cold shudder run through his entire body. One of the Court _was_ Emrys, one of them was a powerful sorcerer. They were in even more danger than he thought.

* * *

Lancelot closed his eyes and breathed out.

Fear for Merlin rose within him. Things were getting too close for comfort now.

He hoped to any god that was out there Merlin managed to stay concealed.

* * *

Gwaine stood staring for a long moment.

One of the Court was Emrys.

That means Merlin knew exactly who he was. They stood together in the same room everyday.

But then, he frowned, it made no sense. If Emrys was already fixed within the Court, why did he need Merlin to be a spy?

Unless...

No, that was ridiculous. It must be because Merlin had close access to Arthur, which no one else in the Royal Court had.

That _must _be it.

Gwaine didn't even want to consider the other possibility.

* * *

"Innit obvious? Emrys himself."

_Damn. _Merlin cursed silently to himself. That idiot was going to blow his cover.

He was standing outside the doors to the Throne Room, his ear pressed to the wood listening intently. He'd went back to Gaius' for all of about thirty seconds, grabbed a draught or two to keep himself awake and alert, and raced back to the hall. There was no way he was going to try and get some sleep when this was going on.

He'd feared for one awful moment the sorcerer they had captured was Gehola, who seemed to be the only decent member of the Wandrian, the only one at least who didn't use Dark Magic and was also sane. It had seemed to Merlin he'd have been the easiest one to capture, unwilling to kill to defend himself.

But Merlin had soon realised this was not the case. He hadn't recognised the voice, partly because the man's mouth must have been completely mutilated to sound as awful as that one. But he could tell this was not one of the good ones.

Not that there were many.

Still, the ones who were as mad as this one weren't usually the dangerous ones. The effect of using Dark Magic over so many years had ruined their bodies so much using magic was pretty much impossible, so they were left only with corrupted minds and bodies for whatever time they had left. By this point most of them had given up.

Merlin shuddered as he realised how much he already knew about the Wandrian after such a short time. He was spending far too much time with them.

There was complete silence in the hall, save for the sorcerer's laboured breathing and malicious cackles. Merlin's own breathing quickened as he still heard nothing.

What were they thinking? They couldn't possibly figure it out could they? Not now, not after Arthur had been so conveniently dense for so long...

No, there was nothing to suggest it was him, save the fact that the man had said Emrys was young. Merlin huffed, he wasn't a _boy. _But it didn't matter much, there were many members of the Court who were young.

But wait...Gwaine? Might he suspect? After all, he knew Merlin was the spy, and he also knew now Emrys was doing the spying himself...

He'd have to come up with some convincing excuse with Lancelot.

He tried not to panic.

Suddenly voices began again in the hall.

"Guards, take him down to the dungeons. Have him guarded night and day. Don't take your eyes off of him, even for a second."

A round of "Yes Sire" came and the two guards emerged from the hall dragging the man with him.

Merlin jumped back just in time and muttered quickly under his breath:"_Lēoht." _

He felt a cold ripple pass over his body, and suddenly he could no longer see his own hands. For all intents and purposes, he was invisible, just as he had been when that guard had rushed out of the hall to be sick. Handy trick that one.

The guards passed by without seeing him, though Merlin got a nasty feeling one of them might have seen him a fraction of a second before he vanished. But the man shook his head muttering to himself, obviously thinking it'd been a trick of the light.

Merlin sighed inwardly with relief, and took this opportunity to have a look at the sorcerer. He recoiled involuntarily. Though the man's stench was nothing compared to Hafela's, the decay was worse, far worse than anything Merlin had yet seen. Merlin took a long hard look, memorising. If for some reason he ever lost the tooth, he had to remind himself, if he ever allowed himself to succumb to the Darkness, this was what he would look like. It was a clear deterrent.

Soon they were gone, and Merlin took this chance to slip inside the hall before the doors swung shut.

Still invisible, he crept up to Arthur and the Knights who were deep in discussion.

"What are we to do Arthur?" asked Elyan, his voice urgent. "Emrys is in the walls of this castle at this very moment!"

"I know, I know." Arthur held up his hand to silence him, thinking deeply. Merlin could tell from his expression he was completely clueless.

"We must conduct a search." said Leon at once. "We must root him out."

"That will do no good." Arthur admitted. "We have no idea what to look for, and someone as powerful as he is will know to cover his steps."

Grim acknowledgement was passed around the group.

"How was it that supply guard described Emrys again?" Gwaine asked.

Arthur thought.

"Tall, lean, and young. That's basically it. Not much to go on."

Gwaine smirked. "At least we can rule out Lord Folc. He's not exactly lean, he never stops eating."

Arthur sighed irritatedly.

"Why did the description just have to sound just like every young man in Court? Why couldn't Emrys have been a dumpy little old crow of a woman with a bad limp?"

"Come now Arthur, you shouldn't put Gwen down like that!"

"Don't start Gwaine! I'm not in the mood for jokes!"

Gwaine was laughing it off, but Merlin knew him well enough to know that Gwaine always made jokes when there was something troubling him. He's already made the connection.

Arthur paced up and down in a state of great agitation, thinking furiously.

Eventually he stopped and turned to face them all.

"There's nothing we can do here till we have more information. I want you all doubly on your guard. Ask around, see if anyone's noticed strange behaviour, it won't be hard to get them to talk, nobles love nothing more than a good gossip. But don't be obvious about it, we don't want Emrys to know what we're up to."

"What about the sorcerer? Is he to be executed?"

"Of course, he's a danger isn't he?"

"But if we drag him out in front of the whole of Camelot and have him killed, won't that alert Emrys to the fact we're onto him?" Leon argued.

Arthur stared at him for a moment, then sighed resignedly.

"You're right. It'd draw too much attention. Still, it'd help to boost morale for the people if they knew we'd managed to capture one of the sorcerers." He paused for a moment. "Keep him locked up, away from the other prisoners. And only have our very best and most trusted guards. If Emrys finds out we're holding one of his own, he may very well try and break him out."

"If you ask me, I don't think Emrys'll miss him much." Gwaine says, in disgust.

"Be that as it may, he mustn't know."

Merlin smiled at the irony.

Arthur drew in a breath.

"Very well, you may all leave. Remember, not a word to anyone outside these walls."

They all turned to leave but-

"Arthur, what about Merlin?"

Arthur turned to look at Gwaine, who had spoken.

"What about him?"

"Should he be told?"

Merlin leaned in closer. Did Gwaine suspect him? Was he about to reveal him to Arthur?

Arthur frowned.

"No, there seems to be enough troubling him at the moment. Besides, if we tell him he'll just get overly paranoid about people and let something slip."

Gwaine nodded, looking thoughtful.

"All right."

Arthur nodded and turned his face away as the Knights left. All except Percival.

Merlin watched him carefully, he looked troubled.

"Sire?"

Arthur turned.

"What is it?"

Percival hesitated looking uncomfortable.

"Well...it's about Merlin."

_Oh crap. Percival of all people didn't suspect him did he?_

Arthur stepped closer.

"Well, out with it!"

Percival glanced around before speaking.

"You've noticed how he's been lately haven't you? The illnesses, the recovery, the illnesses again...how he's always distracted and well, not himself."

Arthur didn't say anything, but he seemed to see the truth in what he was saying.

"Well, Sire, I'd been wondering if all of that didn't have anything to do with what was happening here?"

"It probably has. Gaius says the Dark Magic affects people. So what?"

"He's been acting strangely Sire. I've seen him when I'm patrolling, wandering around the castle."

"He's a palace servant. He's every right to be wandering around the castle."

"At night, Sire?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "What point are you trying to make?"

Percival took a deep breath, it was obvious he hated bringing this up.

"I think Merlin's involved in what's happening. I think he may be helping Emrys."

Merlin froze. _Oh no, oh no..._

He'd always known Percival as the brawny muscular type, he'd never actually credited him with having a _brain._

"Impossible," Arthur says at once. "Merlin would never do anything like that. He's always been loyal. A bit of an idiot maybe, but he's never betrayed me."

This calmed Merlin down a bit, at least Arthur wasn't considering it, but why wasn't he laughing it off as ridiculous? Did he have some sneaking suspicion? Merlin felt a wave of guilt crash down over him; here was Arthur defending him unhesitatingly, when Percival was actually right.

Percival looked as though he'd been afraid of this reaction.

"I'm not saying there's any sort of malicious intent in it. I don't know him well enough, but I do know he's pretty much harmless. But think about it Sire. He's not a Knight, he'd be more vulnerable to..._persuasion. _He has family doesn't he? I'm sure he mentioned a mother from one of the Outer Villages. Don't you think it's possible they may have gotten to him somehow? That Emrys may be forcing him into it? Isn't Merlin the sort of person that would anything to protect someone if he thought they were in danger? And he's in such a prime position too...the prince's personal manservant..."

Arthur looks properly stunned as he considers this.

Merlin held his breath. _Don't think about it Arthur. Gods know, this isn't the time to start questioning things. You were better off without a brain._

Arthur shook his head, but Merlin was alarmed to see doubt on his face.

"How would you know anything of this? You said yourself, you barely even know Merlin!"

"Exactly," said Percival, looking sombre. "I'm the only objective one."

Arthur blinks a few times then looks at a blank space in the wall aimlessly.

"Sire?" Percival stepped forward hesitantly.

"You can go. I'll give thought to what you have said."

Percival nodded, gave a quick bow, and departed rather rapidly, leaving Arthur and Merlin alone.

Merlin took a step towards Arthur. Surely he wasn't considering-

"Merlin," Arthur sighed, still staring at the wall. "When are you ever _not_ going to cause me trouble?"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for having the patience to put up with my rubbish updating record! Love if you review! And kudos if you spotted the Disney's Mulan quote! Watched that film a million times yesterday :) **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Over 100 reviews! Thanks so much guys! And now for the second instalment of 'What I did instead of sleeping'. Hope you like! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 12- Roses and thorns**

Arthur watched the people of Camelot cross the courtyard from the window of his chambers. They hurried home without stopping, clutching their rations of grain, which, thankfully, was still holding steady, despite the loss of supply wagons. They were worried about an invasion, Dark Magic, and food shortages. Arthur almost envied them. He had all of that to deal with, and so much more.

The conversation he'd had with Percival lay heavily on his mind. Could it be true? Could Merlin be working with Emrys?

His immediate reaction was one of disbelief. He couldn't believe that of Merlin. It was ridiculous to the extreme. _Merlin? Of all people?_

Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, Percival's argument made sense. And Arthur had been growing a bit suspicious as of late, Merlin was acting _really _strangely, even for him.

The comment Gwaine and Lancelot had made came back to him, about Merlin being busy last night. At the time he'd passed it off as having something to do with a girl, as unlikely as that seemed, but now doubt came back to haunt him. Had Merlin been busy last night because he'd been informing Emrys of something? Was that why Gwaine and Lancelot had kept staring at him that day? Were they both covering for him? Was that why they were now all of a sudden so friendly?

He cursed himself for thinking such things. This was _Merlin _for crying out loud! He couldn't keep a secret if he tried! Besides, Arthur had only told Merlin about the attack five minutes before they had left. He didn't have time to tell anyone anything. Arthur now found himself thinking back frantically, to remember if Merlin had been left alone at any point that day, long enough to send a message?

_Don't be stupid_, he told himself. How could he have sent a message? It's not like he can disappear or anything!

Arthur had to admit though, there always had been something strange about Merlin, ever since the day he'd met him, something he'd never quite worked out.

He shook his head. Merlin's being a little odd wasn't important, it was annoying perhaps, but it didn't mean he was now a spy did it?

As he watched, he saw Gwen move across the courtyard, moving elegantly in one of the new gowns Arthur had had made for her. He smiled, she did look radiant in them, but somehow she'd seemed happier dressing in a simple maidservant's dress. He wanted to go down to her, to hold her, but something stopped him. He didn't want to inflict all this on her.

Arthur knew he'd do anything if it meant protecting her, wasn't that what Percival had said? That if someone close to Merlin had been threatened he'd do anything to help them? Even spy?

A piercing headache soon came upon him, and Arthur buried his head in his hands. This was no use.

He stood up and walked out of his chambers. He'd go and see Gaius for a headache remedy. And while he was there he might as well stop in on Merlin.

* * *

The moon was out and shining over the woods near Camelot, but Merlin didn't look up. He was too busy staring at the ground in front of him.

_Stupid, stupid stupid..._

What the hell had be been thinking?

He knew he'd be found out sooner or later, but did it have to be so soon? Why did Arthur all of a sudden have to think about things he usually accepted without question?

Even if Arthur didn't believe Percival, the seeds of doubt had been sown, Arthur would be on his guard now...

He was still sitting there cursing his bad luck when a figure emerged from the trees.

"You sure Gaius would be happy to hear you using those words?"

Merlin almost jumped out of his skin.

"Lancelot! Don't do that!"

"What, did you think I was one of the Wandrian?"

Merlin frowned.

"Not funny."

Lancelot smiled anyway, and sat down on a log near Merlin.

"Listen-" he began.

"I know it all. I was there today, I heard everything." Merlin said wearily.

Lancelot looked surprised. "How-"

"I was invisible."

Lancelot stared. "I'm not even going to ask."

Merlin grinned.

"Don't worry. I don't do it often. I only spy on the important stuff. Your private life is safe from my invisible eyes."

Lancelot didn't smile.

"Merlin, if you were there then you know..."

"Yeah. They know Emrys is in the Court. That makes my situation rather precarious don't you think?"

"How can you make light of this?"

"What else can I do?" Merlin shrugged. "'Specially now Gwaine knows I'm the spy. He's going to know I'm Emrys isn't he?"

He looked pointedly at Lancelot, who shifted.

"I didn't want to tell him Merlin. He figured out most of it on his own. You know what he's like- you wouldn't have been able to keep it from him much longer anyway."

Merlin sighed. "I know. He's annoying like that isn't he?" He was silent for a moment. "Suppose it's not so bad now, considering Percival and Arthur know now too."

"What?" Yelped Lancelot.

Merlin grimaced. "Well, Percival suspects me of helping Emrys, and he does bring up a good argument, and he told Arthur as well, who wasn't exactly dead against it."

Lancelot looked troubled. "It's only a matter of time then."

"Yep," Merlin agreed. "Though I suppose we could always just say Percival is actually Emrys and he's just trying to land me in it."

Lancelot laughed. "I don't think that argument'd have much merit. Percival's not exactly lean now is he?"

Merlin frowned. "Yeah, I was wondering about that. You don't suppose it's supposed to be insulting do you? '_Lean', _I mean, I can think of a dozen other ways I'd like to be described."

Lancelot merely smiled, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence.

Merlin picked up a leaf from the ground and passed it through his fingers a couple of times looking closely at it.

"_Byrnan,_" he murmured, and the leaf caught fire. He set it down in the palm of his hand for a while watching it.

"_Frīcian," _he said, and the flames began to dance in his hand, moving up on down his fingers and round his palm and wrist, flames licking at his skin harmlessly, tickling him slightly.

"_Weolocrēad." _The flames changed to purple, weaving in and out through each other, hypnotising him.

_"Oferhlēapan." _The flames began to jump over each other. "_Hīw āwendan_." The flames changed colour now as they leapt over each other in the air in a mesmerising pattern.

"_Fugolwielle ac dēor." _Now the flames dispersed and formed the shapes of animals and birds. They flew through the air, birds leaving sparks in their wake flapping their fiery wings, animals dancing across the night sky throwing light on Merlin's face, his eyes in raptures, as they followed the shapes.

"_Cuman mec,_" he said, and the flame animals all soared back to his hand. He caught them, and twisted his hand around sharply muttering "_Blostma_," before opening it again to reveal a single rose.

He picked it up, and said: "_Weaxan." _

Roots and shoots began to blossom from the rose more rapidly than in nature. Merlin held the rose out over the ground, and the roots burrowed their way into the earth, twisting and turning, finding security and strength, ever growing, more and more, until at last a miniature rose bush was situated right in the earth, where five minutes previously there had been none.

"Amazing isn't it?" murmured Merlin. "Even a dead leaf can become a rose bush."

Lancelot was staring at him with wide eyes.

"Merlin, that was amazing. I never knew magic could be so...well, beautiful."

"Magic can be many things," Merlin said quietly. "I used to do that for my mother all the time as a child. Of course, only after we'd closed all the doors and shut up all the windows so no one could see. It used to make her laugh so much. I loved to see her smile like that, it was usually so hard for her, bringing up a child on her own, particularly an _unusual _one like me. It made her sad too though, that I could have such a gift, but not be able to use it." He paused for a moment. "Still, we always did have the best roses in the village."

Lancelot looked at him sadly. "It must have been hard growing up with such a secret."

Merlin shrugged. "Didn't know any differently did I? Must have been though. Look at Morgana, she went through the same things. Only, she didn't do the roses, just the thorns."

"You're picking up quite a talent for metaphors Merlin."

"I think Gaius is rubbing off on me." He grinned.

Just as Merlin was about to suggest they head back into the city, a green flash startled them. Lancelot drew his sword instinctively, but Merlin knew it would be no use. Though it didn't hurt him any more, he still felt the effects of Dark Magic.

As soon as the blinding light had died away, Merlin was able to get a better look at what it was.

Right between himself and Lancelot, where the rose bush had been, was now a giant Dark Magic symbol, pulsating with green energy. Merlin clutched for the tooth in his pocket, but he still felt sick to his stomach.

"What's that for?" Lancelot asked warily.

"They've sent for me," conceded Merlin. "I'll guess it'll be about that prisoner."

Lancelot jerked his head. "Do you think they'll ask you to try and free him?"

"Perhaps."

Lancelot reached out to him.

"Merlin you can't."

Merlin looked at him a long moment.

"I have to."

"_Brūcan mec tō se lēah." _He commanded, and the familiar winds and gales buffeted around him taking him to his destination. Merlin watched sadly as Lancelot's face slowly was lost from sight.

_Please understand._

* * *

Hafela stood at the window of the castle in the realm of the Wandrian. Even from this far away he sensed the magic which had just entered the Realm. Magic of the Old Religion. He sniffed disapprovingly. Emrys was useful, but the amount of that magic he brought here unnerved him. It was too pure, and conflicted harshly with his own constitution. Once the magic of the Old Religion had been a solace to him. But now, it was like poison.

Gamol came up behind him.

"Emrys has arrived?"

He nodded, unwilling to discuss the matter. But Gamol wasn't done.

"A few weeks ago you seemed so certain he would soon fall under our spell, would join us fully. Yet he has failed to do so. His eyes are as of yet untainted."

Hafela grumbled to himself.

"It was working in the beginning. He was falling to our power."

"What changed then?"

Hafela's brow creased in thought.

"I know not. His magic is of the Old Religion. By all accounts the power of the castle should have begun to pollute it. It forces all unsavoury thoughts and experiences to come to mind, to take over until all else has vanished."

"I know Hafela," Gamol said quietly. "We all went through it."

Hafela sighed in exasperation.

"It was working! He was having visions! He was letting himself be taken by the shadow! What changed?"

Gamol sucked in breath through the rotten stumps of his teeth.

"I don't suppose it matters does it? He's still on our side is he not? What does it matter if he uses our Art or not?"

"Because, Gamol, if he does not embrace our ways, he may not be so willing to cooperate when he learns the true extent of our plans." Hafela's voice sounded dangerous.

"What does that matter? Morgana will be more than willing to help us. Only she has the power to open the portal."

"Yes, and Emrys alone has the power to stop her if he should so wish."

Gamol frowned. "If he has turned to our ways, then surely the prophecy means he will continue down this path-"

"Not prophecy again Gamol," Hafela muttered. "I will not place my faith in a bunch of Druidic superstitious nonsense."

"You believed the prophecy of the power of Emrys did you not? And the prophecy about Morgana being the only one who can help us?"

"Because with the right investigation, those can be proven easily. The rest however is up for debate."

"Tell that to the Druids," Gamol murmured. "Prophecy means everything to them."

Hafela smiled wickedly. "Well they are the ones foolish enough to believe they can protect the portal from our forces." He laughed, blood gargling in his throat. He relished the feel of it.

He fell silent. He could feel the power of the Old Religion getting closer. Damn it's infernal goodness!

"Emrys is on his way," he said to Gamol. "The stench of that magic can be smelt a mile off."

Gamol looked thoughtful. "The magic of the Old Religion can be corrupted within a person can it not?"

Hafela refrained from rolling his eyes. Not that anyone would have noticed- they were pitch black after all.

"Of course it can. How do you think we were all blessed?"

"Then can you think why the magic within Emrys is not being corrupted?"

Hafela thought carefully. "Because the magic Emrys is using is not from a person." He concluded. "But that doesn't make-"

"Doesn't it?" Gamol asked with a leer. "There are some who can draw their magic from external sources. Things that come directly from the Old Religion, not diluted from being contained within a person. The part that cannot be corrupted."

Hafela was at a loss. He continued looking through the window aimlessly looking at the sky, when he saw a shape dive across it. A bird, unusual in this realm. It'll be killed by the residual effects of the magic soon enough. Then a thought struck him.

"Dragons. Their magic comes directly from the Old Religion. And the Dragonlords were spiritual brothers of the dragons, they could draw upon their power, when they were close by."

"Yes," Gamol leered, looking so patronising Hafela wanted to kill him. "Or from a piece of a dragon. Don't you remember those dragon bone pendants Dragonlords used to go around wearing all the time to ensure they were within reach of the magic of the Old Religion? They believed it gave them protection. Useless to anyone else of course, they wouldn't be able to draw upon the power, not unless the magic of the Dragonlords were ran through their veins. Of course _you'd_ be too young to remember the Dragonlords at their height."

It took all of Hafela's self-control not to strike him down right there and then.

"So, what? You think Emrys is a Dragonlord and has some sort of a token from a Dragon to keep him from succumbing to the shadow?"

"Precisely." he hissed.

Hafela considered. "Possible. But by all reckoning the last Dragonlord died more than 20 years ago. They were all killed."

"All except one. He was never traced. It's likely he's dead now of course, but is it not possible he managed to sire a son before he was killed? A son, that would now be about...Emrys' age perhaps?"

Hafela grinned, feeling blood oozing down his chin. "I knew I kept you around for something."

Gamol did not look pleased but he let it go.

"Wrecan did say he had the stench of a Dragonlord about him, and it fits with what we know occurred in Camelot a while back. Why did the Great Dragon stop attacking, unless he was ordered to?"

Hafela nodded, everything seemed to be falling into place.

"Wrecan is also due back at the moment, I suggest we cease discussing this. You know how he hates this particular subject after he had that run-in with Balinor and got that ridiculous scar right across his face. Wrecan would not be pleased."

"Wrecan is not pleased now!" said the man himself, storming through the door. "Where is Emrys, I have a bone to pick with him! He's been betraying us!"

* * *

Outside the room the young man named Gehola sprinted away from the door, his heart racing. It had cost him much to enter the castle, Dark Magic was already affecting him badly and he knew he would have to sleep for days to rid himself of the shadow. But he'd heard the rumours from the village, rumours that Morgana was returning, and he'd had to hear for himself. If Hafela had caught him however, he would almost certainly be lying on the stone floor with his insides sprawled out next to him. But it didn't matter, he had to tell Emrys what he'd heard.

Emrys was the only one here who'd been anything close to kind to him, the only one save for himself who could resist the Dark Magic. Gehola wasn't sure what Emrys was doing for the Wandrian, rumour had it he was helping them, going to find them a place to live that was no longer contaminated with Dark Magic, so that the magic they used would feed off the land instead of their bodies. Gehola didn't know whether this was true, but he did know Emrys could be trusted. He didn't use Dark Magic, Gehola had heard himself that Emrys had ordered no one in whichever land they were trying to get was to be killed. Emrys _must_ be a good man.

He'd even taught him a spell of invisibility, which had come in useful when Wrecan had barged past to enter the room. If Wrecan had seen him...

But it didn't matter now. He had to tell Emrys what he'd heard before he met with them.

There was more going on here than Emrys knew about.

And that didn't bode well for either of them.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter coming right up! Hope I haven't rushed these :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Woo! On a roll!**

* * *

**Chapter 13- Loyalties?**

As Merlin made his way through the shanty houses on his way to the castle of the Wandrian, keeping his eyes averted from the harrowed people with their rotten limbs, a million thoughts were tumbling around in his head.

He knew he was in trouble, it was only a matter of time before he was discovered. Rather ironically, Merlin had never been much good at keeping secrets.

Percival suspected him, Arthur was on the lookout, Gwaine only had to put two and two together, Lancelot was doubting him, Gaius thought he was in too deep...at this rate Elyan, Leon and Gwen were the only oblivious ones.

Things were starting to get far more tricky than he'd anticipated. He should have known; he was no spy.

Everything was crumbling around him, he was fighting to stay abreast of it all but it threatened to overwhelm him. What was going to happen?

He approached the castle and was about to enter, holding the dragon's tooth firmly in his pocket as he felt the magic begin to affect him, when some unseen force collided with him.

He spun around expected some sort of attack but instead heard some heavy breathing and a voice:

"Emrys! It's you!"

Merlin looked around again for the source of the voice, recognising it at the last minute. "Gehola? Where are you?"

"I'm here." he said, and he appeared out of nowhere, a shimmering mist slowly revealing his body.

Merlin nodded in approval. "Good to see you made use of that spell. And remember, call me Merlin."

"All right, Em-uh...Merlin." He said, still out of breath. "I have to tell you something."

Merlin glanced up at the castle. "Can it wait? I'm supposed to meet with-"

"That's what I have to talk to you about!" He wheezed, his eyes wide. "There's more going on than you know about! I was listening in, they were talking about Morgana, something about her being the only one able to open some sort of portal and you being the only one to stop her. They were talking about why the magic isn't affecting you, and they thought it was because you were a Dragonlord and had some sort of bone or something to help you. They know you're not being affected, and they're worried you're not on their side because they said if you knew what was really going on you'd never agree to it! Then Wrecan came in and said he was mad at you, that you'd been betraying them!"

Merlin froze, while Gehola still fought to catch his breath. _Now both parties know..._

The prophecy he had read, the one he had assumed was about Morgana came back to him and he strained to remember what it had said. _S__he is of noble birth, and noble spirit, but corrupted by whispers of the darkness. Only Emrys can bring her back from the brink of the darkness._

Morgana. He remembered what Kilgarrah had said about Morgana. He had also mentioned a portal.

What else had the prophecy said? _For Emrys shall know her in the light, and also in the dark, and their futures are joined, through love and hate, darkness and light. She is a force of nature, a tempest of magic, a powerful storm, which makes her attractive to many who would use her. The ones who dwell in the Forest of No Life, desire her. For she can help them, an unleasher of pure magic. She can save them, or destroy them._

An unleasher of pure magic. A portal. Merlin didn't like how this was going.

His pulse raced as he tried to comprehend this. Hafela wanted Morgana to do something, open this portal probably, but what was it? Why was it important?

He remembered also, something about Emrys being the only one who can save her. Was that true? Kilgarrah had dismissed it, but Merlin hadn't been sure. He couldn't abandon Morgana if there was a chance she could be saved...

But he pushed Morgana aside for the moment. Other matters were more urgent. They knew he was a Dragonlord. He had thought they already knew that, but now they know how he's stopping the Dark Magic getting to him. Will they try and stop him?

And more importantly, they knew he was betraying them. This was not his day.

"Merlin?" Gehola pulled him out of his reverie. "What are you going to do?"

Merlin stood still for many minutes thinking furiously. "I still have to go and meet them."

Gehola gasped. "But they'll kill you! They're not exactly forgiving! You don't live here, you don't know what they're like!"

"I'm capable of defending myself if they try to kill me." Merlin said, though not entirely confident in his own abilities.

Gehola looked at him as though he was mad, but Merlin's mind was made up.

He stepped past Gehola, to continue to the castle, when Gehola stopped him.

"What they said.." he trailed off, looking unsure. "About betraying us I mean. It's not true is it? You said you were going to help us."

Merlin looked at him evenly. "I _am_ trying to help you. You just have to trust me."

Gehola nodded, but he still looked uncertain, and Merlin felt a twinge of guilt. He _wasn't _trying to help the Wandrian. But he _was _trying to help people, people like Gehola. But would he understand that? After all, he had no love for them did he?

He clapped Gehola on the shoulder, and strode off towards the castle again, drawing in his breath as he prepared for the onslaught of magic.

* * *

Arthur sighed as he sat at the table in his chambers going over countless roll of parchment which made little or no sense. His mind was wandering. The candle stump was flickering, the small light being the only source of illumination in the room, so that he could barely see to read, even if he had wished to.

The moon was obscured behind some clouds and the whole night seemed as though it was on edge, silence permeating every stone and person in the city. It was almost as though it was waiting for something to happen. Or was that just his paranoia?

He sighed again, and pushed the parchment away from himself; he was never going to get any of this done tonight. The Wandrian, the mysterious man, Emrys and Merlin all ran through his mind, almost taunting him with his frustration at not being able to understand a single one of them.

Merlin most of all was in his thoughts. He'd been to Gaius' earlier for a headache remedy, only to find Merlin was not there, and Gaius had not seen him since that morning. He'd felt a touch of dread at those words. Where could he have gone if not to bed? Suspicion had begun to cloud his thoughts. He'd tried to discretely ask Gaius what he knew, claiming to want to know how Merlin was coping with these 'illnesses', but the old man had been cagey and unhelpful. Was he protecting Merlin? Surely Gaius wouldn't protect him if he knew he had done something wrong?

What the hell was going on?

A soft knock on the door brought him to his senses, and he looked up hopefully, only to slump again when he saw Gwaine come through the door.

"Oh, it's you." He said grudgingly.

Gwaine pretended to look offended. "What? Expecting Gwen were you? Well you'll just have to make to do with me."

Arthur ignored this and feigned interest in his discarded scrolls.

"Or perhaps you hoped it was Merlin?"

Arthur looked up sharply to see Gwaine regarding him seriously. _Too _seriously, for Gwaine at least.

Arthur looked away. "There's something going on with him, I don't know what. I went to see him earlier, but he wasn't there. It makes me think there's something wrong. And then there's what Percival said..." He trailed off, wondering whether or not he should tell Gwaine. He decided yes, Merlin and Gwaine seemed to be pretty close.

"Percival seems to think Merlin's involved in this. That he's..._helping_ Emrys, as crazy as that sounds. Normally I'd never believe it, but there's been so many things happening, it makes me wonder whether or not it's true. It'd explain how Emrys has managed to stay hidden in Court, and how he knows things only the senior Knights know. And why Merlin's been acting so odd."

To his surprise, Gwaine did not look shocked. "The same thought had occurred to me." He admitted sitting down at the table without invitation. "Why are you sitting in the dark like this? The whole situation's gloomy enough without you adding to it." He picked up the candle stump whose flame had almost completely died away, and lit the other candles on the table. The glow highlighted both their faces.

"What do you know Gwaine, for sure I mean," asked Arthur. "Not just speculation."

Gwaine considered. "I can't say, but I know he's troubled. He and Lancelot are always discussing it."

"Lancelot knows?" Arthur asked sharply. "Why hasn't he come to tell me?"

Gwaine looked away from him. "You know Merlin, so completely private and closed off. He'll have sworn Lancelot to secrecy." He paused for another moment. "But I don't think you should worry. If it was something serious, Lancelot would have come and told you. You can trust him in the meantime to watch out for him."

Arthur leaned back in his chair. He certainly hoped Lancelot would come to him if there was anything the matter, but Arthur was fully aware of his feelings for Gwen. He hoped that wouldn't prevent him from talking to him if needed.

But Lancelot was indeed close to Merlin, and Arthur decided to trust him. If there was anything to be concerned about, Lancelot _would _tell him. He wouldn't let Merlin suffer or do wrong. As long as Lancelot was by his side, Arthur shouldn't worry. Lancelot would alert him if it was anything serious; he would do the best thing for his friend, even if it meant betraying his trust.

Feeling slightly better he sat up again. "So where is Merlin then?"

Gwaine shrugged. "Lancelot went to look for him. He's probably still with him now."

Arthur nodded. It would have to do for now. But still, he didn't like the thought of Emrys still wandering around Court. Merlin would be safe with Lancelot. Unless..._Lancelot _was Emrys and that's why he hasn't come to tell him anything.

He pushed this thought away immediately. If he started suspecting everyone he'd have no one left on his side. He had to maintain the trust he had with his Knights. It was the only kind he could be sure of.

But...where was Merlin?

* * *

"You called for me Hafela?" Merlin stepped into the room in the only remaining tower in the castle, his heart racing.

Hafela turned from the window where he had been standing and stared at him incalculably, Gamol at his side. Wrecan charged up from the side fury blazing in his half-blackened eyes.

"Damn right we called for you traitor!"

A torrent of green energy flew towards Merlin, setting the air ablaze as it went.

"_Hilderand!" _ Merlin yelled, erecting a force field not a moment too soon. The green light smashed into the invisible barrier sending a ripple of light across it. The force was strong enough to send Merlin back several feet, but the forcefield held. _They weren't kidding before, Dark Magic _is _really strong_ , Merlin thought as he recovered.

"What is the meaning of this?" Merlin yelled before Wrecan could attack again; he wasn't sure he could withstand another barrage.

"I'll tell you! You betrayed us! You sneaky little freak you betrayed us!" Wrecan yelled, blood pouring from his mouth, sounding quite insane. "I saw you! You were using magic to protect that Camelot scum! I saw you during the ambush! You traitor!"

_Damn, _thought Merlin_. I'd hoped Lancelot had been the only one to see. _ He almost laughed at the irony of Wrecan calling him a traitor, wasn't that the whole point?

Wrecan was seething and raised his hand for another attack but Gamol spoke in his wizened old voice, rather forcefully: "Calm yourself Wrecan. We wouldn't like another...oh dear, too late."

A large lump of flesh from Wrecan's outstretched forearm had suddenly turned black and fallen from his arm, landing on the flagstones with a sick slapping sound, leaving bone exposed, and black blood falling in clumps to the floor.

Merlin fought the urge to be sick.

Wrecan looked down at his arm briefly, seemingly unconcerned half of it was now gone, and looked back at at Merlin, calmer than before. The blackness in his eyes had now expanded to cover double the area it had previously.

"You will explain Emrys," Hafela spoke quietly, looking rather bored at the situation. "Why did you protect the Knights?"

Merlin answered immediately, hurriedly forming an excuse. "The Prince was among them, it was not the time for him to be killed."

"And who are you to decide that?" sneered Wrecan. "Why not kill the Prince? It would plunge the kingdom into deeper chaos."

"Exactly," said Merlin, casting around frantically for a way out, but managing to keep his voice calm. "The Wandrian are not yet strong enough to take on the kingdom, as weak as it is at present. The armies are still far stronger and outnumber us, even if we were using magic, they would overcome us. If the Prince lives, it gives the kingdom a chance to lose faith in him, fall to anarchy, and become easier for us to take."

Merlin knew it was a load of nonsense, but he hoped they would buy it.

Wrecan gave a laugh. "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"If the Prince is dead, the armies will fight twice as hard to avenge him. If he lives but they no longer trust him, they will be easier to defeat." Merlin said firmly.

Wrecan fell silent, glowering at him. Merlin glanced at Hafela and Gamol, who were deep in thought. _Please..._

Hafela shuffled forward, bringing his stench with him, Merlin breathed through his mouth, and tried to stand confidently, though he felt as though all his limbs were shaking.

"Your logic is interesting Emrys," he pondering searching his face. "Many of the things you have told us have been interesting, but they do not always work out to our favour. From what Wrecan tells me, we lost a sorcerer in that ambush, yet not a single citizen of Camelot has as of yet been harmed. Why?"

Merlin stared him down. "I've heard talk in the Court. They're frightened. They're more afraid of us because we _haven't _been killing people. They're running around like headless chickens trying to anticipate our next move. This is working to our advantage. The time will come when they will see the true extent of our power."

Wrecan came closer to him, and Merlin avoided looking at his arm.

"Why don't you use Dark Magic then, if you're on our side?"

Merlin glared at him.

"No offence, but I'd like to keep my body and sanity intact, if you don't mind. Besides, how am I supposed to spy if I turn up for work with black eyes? Arthur may be dense but I'm pretty sure even he'd notice that! I _am _on your side!"

Hafela looked even closer at him, as though trying to read his mind.

"Prove it."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat. What the hell was he supposed to do?

"I need to prove my loyalty to you because one sorcerer couldn't manage to defend himself against a piece of _metal_?" Merlin stated, trying to sound outraged.

"Yes," said Hafela simply.

Merlin's mind raced what was he supposed to do? Kill someone? He couldn't let it couldn't let it come to that. Then a thought struck him, and he remembered what Lancelot had said.

"There is one of your sorcerers locked inside the dungeons of Camelot, " he said quickly. "Give me a few hours and I will return him to you." _Somehow, _he added privately.

Wrecan scoffed. "Old Hyre? We're better off without him! He's crazy, a complete waste."

_Only because of what this magic has done to you_, thought Merlin. _Hopefully it'll happen to you one day soon._

Merlin continued: "I'd be risking a great deal for this. The chance that Arthur'll discover me is very high, he is heavily guarded."

Hafela gave it a good deal of thought.

"Very well, Emrys, we expect him here by sunrise. If not...well, we shall see." He finished rather ominously. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief, but Wrecan looked outraged.

"You're not seriously believing all this crap he comes out with are you? He's a traitor!"

"We shall see," Hafela said again, and he turned back to the window; the conversation was over.

Merlin took this as his cue to leave, so he spun around and headed towards the doors, as he left he heard Gamol saying in a low voice.

"Perhaps he will not help us, but Morgana shall arrive shortly. Then our plans shall be set into motion."

Merlin shivered voluntarily, but he pretended not to hear. Morgana was coming? How on earth was he going to get around this? She'd never believe he'd betray Arthur.

Still, he had other things to worry about. Like how to break a top-security prisoner put of the Camelot dungeons...

* * *

Gwaine watched from the window as Lancelot walked back into the courtyard at Camelot.

He was alone.

Gwaine felt a surge of trepidation. Where was Merlin?

He'd been going over it again and again...Merlin and Emrys were both in the Royal Court, both had access to classified information, both knew things they shouldn't. Could they be the same person?

It was impossible. It had to be. Merlin, a sorcerer?

It couldn't be...Emrys was a known killer. There'd been a corpse with his name carved into it for crying out loud! Merlin would never do that. The guards who had seen him had been afraid, they had said he radiated evil and danger. That wasn't Merlin.

Merlin was suffering, if he really was Emrys, he'd be enjoying it all, wouldn't he?

But tonight, Merlin couldn't be found, when one of the Wandrian had been caught...it didn't look good.

It would explain why Emrys didn't use Dark Magic however, it'd look pretty suspicious if Merlin turned up one day with half his skin missing...

Gwaine shuddered at the thought

But he reminded himself, Lancelot was still loyal to him. And Lancelot would never collaborate with a sorcerer.

Then again, Merlin's father had been a Dragonlord, was that magic passed down from father to son? He remembered what Merlin had been saying about Emrys, almost defending him...

Gwaine had believed Merlin when he had said he was working as a spy for both sides, could the same still be applied? Was Merlin really Emrys and a sorcerer but still be working on Camelot's side?

But that would mean he had magic, powerful magic, and Gwaine knew most of the powerful sorcerers drawn to Camelot did not have good intentions...

And then there were those prophecies.

Gwaine gave up trying to understand it all. He turned and headed towards the dungeons. Her would interrogate that prisoner till he gave every piece of information he had.

He _would _find out.

* * *

**A/N: Whew! 3 chaps all at once, I'm exhausted. Reviews pretty please, they make me better! :)**

**I admit, I've not been completely into this story lately, hence the slow updating, but I'm really starting to 'get myself back into the mood' now! Hopefully more updates soon! Definitely gonna be more action next chapter, even though I promised it a while back. I just get carried away! **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Another update! I surprise myself! ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 14- Prison Break**

Merlin ran. As soon as he had exited the castle he had set off at top speed, regardless of who could see him, the great Emrys, running like a child. He had to get back to Camelot.

He ran through the haphazard little village, skirting around the grotesque shapes that loomed up at him from the darkness, reaching out at him, begging him to help them. Their moans and wails echoed around the dead valley and Merlin fought hard to ignore them.

He reached the edge of the village and started off through the skeletal trees, whose branches reached out to claw at him, drag him backwards. He kept going, ignoring the creeping sensation that the trees were watching him.

Gradually the trees began to show signs of life and growth, and the Dark Magic became less and less prominent in the atmosphere. Noises of animals and birds reached his ears, as he returned to the world of the light.

He emerged in the clearing, the moon still shining overhead, not obscured by clouds as it had been in the valley, this moon was a result of magic.

Merlin stopped to briefly catch his breath and prepared the spell he needed to get himself back to Camelot. His heart was fluttering in his chest, how on earth was he going to survive the night with everything that was happening?

He summoned his magic and felt his eyes turn golden.

"_Brūcan mec tō Camelot!_" He felt the winds soar around him to take him back to the castle, but, at the last moment, he felt a hand grab on to the back of his shirt, before they were both spirited away into the night.

* * *

Hyre sat in his cell, his midnight black eyes fixed on the tiny barred window the cell offered. The moon winked out at him, taunting him with its freedom. He wondered uninterestingly how long he would be languishing here.

A guard passed by his cell and Hyre took the opportunity to turn his head and flash him an evil grin. The man jumped back a foot and cursed as his wide eyes took in the sight in front of him.

Hyre chuckled, choking on the blood and loose flesh in his throat. It fascinated him, the way these people would stare at him, vomit, and faint. Didn't they realise this was a blessing? Dark Magic had given him everything he could ever have dreamed of; power above all else, the feeling of being invincible.

Of course, it hadn't lasted too long. The rate at which he had used this Noble Art, had degraded his body at an astonishing speed, as he hungrily devoured more and more knowledge of its secrets, and subjecting himself to its power. Hyre was twenty-nine years old, had been using Dark Magic less than four years, and already he was more skeleton than man. And he was grateful, he felt the Dark Magic within him, in every fibre of his being, it thrilled him. He revelled in the effect he had on others. He was unstoppable.

Unbidden, a distant memory came back to him, a time of light. Magic had not always been this way, it had once soothed, invigorated, exhilarated, now it only ruined.

Hyre frowned, when was that? What was that magic? He could scarcely remember.

The Old Religion...what was that?

Then it came flooding back. The weak, pathetic little magic tricks he could do before were no rival to the power this magic brought.

Tame, weak, flimsy...now it was powerful, thrilling, deadly...

But also lethal to himself.

He held one of his decayed hands to his face and scrutinised it carefully. Had it been worth it?

As he thought, several finger bones fell off and landed on the stone with a small clatter. Hyre felt no pain, he was long past that.

His body was dead, his mind was almost there...Dark Magic was a trap. It grabbed hold, and killed you slowly, like some sort of sadistic predator. There was no escape.

He laughed again, and spewed out some more blood. He was lost.

What had his life been like before? He had a vague recollection of a pretty woman, a flashing smile...but she soon dissolved into a hazy memory of a gaunt, shrivelled, haunted ghost of a person, lying ill in a filthy bed. Who was she? Had he done this to her?

Hyre laughed again to himself, it was all he could do. The shadows were inside of him, filling himself full of darkness and torment. Hope was a distant memory. Was it real? Or a myth? He could not remember. Who was he?

He rocked back and forth muttering to himself, what was going on? What was this evil he felt creeping inside of him?

A smattering of footsteps approached and his lifted his head. One of the Camelot Knights was standing outside his cell, regarding him with disgust, his nose wrinkled. Hyre grinned grotesquely; this one did not embrace the Noble Art, he was witnessing it at its finest. He would learn.

The man approached his eyes blazing as they passed over his body. There was anger there.

Hyre turned around fully to face him. The man did not flinch, but his jaw tightened.

"Come to witness the glory of the Noble Art?" Hyre cackled.

The man looked at him in revulsion. "You know nothing of nobility." he scorned.

Hyre's eyes glinted. Here was a proud one.

"And you know nothing of power, you are too weak to embrace its might."

The man did not answer to this. He stepped closer, and Hyre admired his audacity to approach someone so heavily imbued with Dark Magic. Brave, but foolish.

The Knight spoke: "Tell me about the Wandrian."

Hyre regarded him in fascination. "So you _do _want to embrace it?"

"I would rather die." The Knight glared at him.

Hyre thought for a moment. He shouldn't say anything, but distant memories came flooding back, memories of a time when people would look at him without flinching. Why not tell him?

"Death. You think it a punishment, but it is not. Suffering such as mine is the punishment. Long years of pain, and decay, and torment. Darkness and shadow overcoming you. A flood, unable to be kept back. The Wandrian embrace this, and that is their downfall. There are very few sane amongst their ranks."

"Then they are no danger?"

Hyre chuckled. "That is why they are dangerous. Dark Magic corrupts all. They think of nothing else than submitting to the force of the magic, immersing themselves in its might. It is their life's goal, to turn their very insides to shadow. Only when it is too late, does the addiction end, and you realise what you have done, but by then you are ruined, a decayed mess of what used to be human. Then you remember...remember what you used to have and what used to be. And that pain overwhelms anything you have done to yourself since."

Hyre broke off. The pain returned...that woman...that haggard destroyed woman...what had happened?

The man's expression changed. "Can't you resist it?"

Hyre laughed bitterly.

"No one can forever."

The Knight frowned. Hyre took his chance. "Not concerned about someone are you?"

The man's eyes flashed. "That's none of your concern. Tell me what you know of Emrys."

Hyre gave a hollow laugh. "I thought you might be asking me that. Must be a blow, to know someone close to you's been betraying you from within."

The man huffed. "Just tell me something useful! If you never do another decent thing in your short life, then do this now. Help us. And we can end your suffering."

Hyre paused, considering. He wanted his suffering to end. He didn't want it drawn out any longer. The darkness was still to consume him completely. He was a dead man anyway.

He looked up at the man once more. He was so young, untainted, full of life and vigour, had he once been like that? Hyre knew, that in years, the man wasn't much younger than himself. But in mind and soul...he was ancient. What would his life have turned out like if he hadn't...

Hyre coughed and spluttered, clearing his throat of mucus and rotten flesh. "Listen closely then. And I shall tell you everything I know."

* * *

Merlin felt himself land roughly on the ground, his legs collapsing beneath him, feeling disorientated with the extra weight he'd carried from the clearing. He was sprawled out on the hard earth, but he twisted and turned around sharply to see who had followed him here. Was it Wrecan? Had he decided he wanted revenge? Instead-

"Wow! I've never done that before!"

"Gehola?" Merlin gasped as he saw the young man's silhouette appear against the night sky.

"Want a hand up?"

Merlin accepted the proffered hand dazedly, and was pulled to his feet. Gehola grinned at him.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Merlin asked.

Gehola's grin fell. "I wanted to help. I was afraid they were going to hurt you, especially after you came tearing out of the place as quick as you did. So I ran after you and grabbed hold before you vanished."

Merlin stared at him stunned. He didn't want Gehola to get involved, not when there was such a large chance of being caught, but he couldn't turn him away. He noticed Gehola looking rather downcast at his less-than-warm welcome, so Merlin reached out and grasped him on the shoulder.

"I'm glad you're here and you want to help. But I've got something dangerous to do, and I don't want you to get caught."

Gehola looked determined. "If it's dangerous then I can help. I've lived around danger my whole life."

Merlin regarded him, he knew there was going to be no arguing with him.

"All right then, follow me."

Gehola nodded happily, and fell into step with Merlin as he set off through the woods towards the castle. They walked in silence for several minutes before Gehola turned to him.

"Wasn't Hafela angry with you?"

Merlin cast his mind back. "I'm not sure. Wrecan insisted I was betraying them, but Hafela...I really don't know. He said I was to prove my loyalty to them by breaking out a prisoner of theirs from the dungeons."

Gehola nodded. "I don't envy you. They're a nasty lot. I'd be terrified to just be in the same room as them. I'm afraid I'm not especially brave."

Merlin smiled. "I'll admit, I'm scared of them too. Anyone would be. You're not a coward. You followed me here didn't you? That takes a bit of courage."

Gehola shook his head. "I'm not brave. I'm a bit of an idiot actually."

Merlin laughed softly to himself. "You'd be surprised how many people say that about me."

Gehola's eyes went wide. "But you're _Emrys_."

"That doesn't define who I am." Merlin explained. "Only actions decide that. Don't put yourself down, you could surprise yourself."

Gehola kept staring at him, like some wide-eyed puppy, and Merlin began to feel a little uncomfortable. He didn't deserve admiration like this.

They continued walking until the towers and turrets of Camelot were visible. Gehola stopped abruptly.

"So this is Camelot?"

Merlin nodded, suddenly remembering Gehola's parents had been killed in the Purge.

"This is it."

Gehola continued to stare at it, his eyes fixated on the castle. Merlin felt a twinge of concern.

"Will you be all right?"

Gehola turned to look at him, and smiled.

"Yes. It's just...I haven't been here since I was a few months old, when my parents were killed. Then my aunt took me to the Wandrian."

"What happened to her?"

Gehola laughed without humour. "She wasted away, like all the rest. There wasn't much left of her when she finally died."

Merlin couldn't imagine what he'd gone through. He'd thought his own upbringing had been difficult. How had he managed to survive this for so long?

Gehola turned to him. "Who is the prisoner?

Merlin tried to remember. "Umm, Hyre, I think his name was."

Gehola shot him a sharp look. "Hyre? That's not good."

Merlin felt alarmed. "Why? He's not dangerous is he?"

Gehola shook his head. "Not particularly. He's too far gone too be much good at any sort of magic. He's not really much trouble, despite being pretty awful to look at."

Merlin privately agreed. "Then what's wrong?"

"Hyre and Hafela arrived at the same time about four years ago. They'd both been friends since they were young. They both practised magic, but Hafela started using Dark Magic, and convinced Hyre to do the same. They were unstoppable together. Their experiments were...extreme. Eventually it ended in the death of Hyre's wife, the Dark Magic from Hyre had wrecked her own body beyond repair, even though she'd never used magic in her life. Hyre went mad, and started using it more and more, till his body became completely wasted. Hafela brought him to the Wandrian to be looked after. Most of them think Hyre's useless and want rid of him, he can barely walk without some body part falling off of him, but Hafela protects him, no one knows why. Hafela became leader quite quickly, and ordered no one to touch him."

Merlin looked at his feet, sighing. So many lives, ruined by the magic. What was the point?

"How did Hafela manage to become leader so quickly?"

Gehola wrinkled his nose. "It wasn't difficult. The Wandrian are smart enough to realise when someone's strong enough. He was the only one strong and sane enough to lead them. And he was young, which was an advantage. Hyre and Hafela are both only twenty-nine, not that you'd believe it."

Merlin was mildly shocked to hear this. Why would someone want to waste away their youth like that? Gehola continued:

"Most of the Wandrian don't live past thirty-five. Gamol's the exception, he's well over fifty, we're not sure how he's managed it. He's resentful of Hafela, he's twice as old, just as sane, but he's not the leader. He doesn't respect Hafela."

Merlin made a mental note of this, it might come in useful later, if things went ill.

They had now almost approached the gates of Camelot, and passed through as the guards recognised Merlin. They made their way through the streets of the city and Merlin began to feel nervous. How was he going to pull this off?

Gehola meanwhile stared around in wonder. "I never knew a place could be as big as this!"

Merlin looked at him. "Haven't you been outside the valley before?"

Gehola shook his head. "Never. I was always too afraid."

"But you're afraid when you're there," reasoned Merlin. "Why don't you just leave?"

Gehola hesitated. "Because I'm afraid I won't fit in anywhere else. I've never been much good at secrecy, I'd stick out. At least with the Wandrian I don't have to worry about that. We're all outcasts there."

Merlin felt saddened at Gehola's perceptions of the world. He deserved so much more.

"Why don't you go to the Druids? They'd protect you."

Gehola shuddered. "But the Druids guard the portal. And that would just put me on edge all of the time."

_Portal._

Gehola didn't know about what this portal was did he? And what Morgana was supposed to do?

"What exactly is-" he began, but broke off at the sight of two red-cloaked figures crossing the courtyard in front of them.

"In here," he hissed, grabbing Gehola roughly by the arm, and dragging him into a nearby doorway, hiding them in the shadows.

Merlin watched as Arthur and Lancelot continued on their way, oblivious to the two sorcerers, deep in discussion. Merlin wondered whether they were talking about him.

Soon they were out of sight, and Merlin began to breath easier. That had been close, and it was going to get even worse. He'd better stop the idle chit-chat and start to concentrate. Tonight was not going to be easy.

They stepped out of the shadows. Gehola was still staring at where they'd vanished.

"Was that the Prince?"

"Yes." Merlin said shortly, pulling Gehola after him in the general direction of the dungeons.

"He doesn't look evil."

Merlin frowned at him. "That's because he isn't."

"But he's Uther's son isn't he? He's the one we're fighting against aren't we? That's what everyone says."

"You shouldn't believe everything the Wandrian tell you," said Merlin. "They're not exactly the greatest of role models are they?"

Merlin didn't get a chance to see Gehola's reaction. A patrol of guards approached, and he had once again to pull Gehola abruptly into the shadows. He shouldn't have brought him, he had no experience with this sort of thing.

He turned to him. He looked pale, but not overly frightened. He really underestimated his own courage.

"We're going to have to use the invisibility spell all right?" Gehola nodded. "But we're going to have to adjust it slightly, so we can see each other, but no one else can."

Gehola nodded again. "So what's the incantation?"

Merlin thought for a moment, trying to remember all the magical words he knew. He'd have to create this spell himself. He had to be careful to get it right.

"I'll be: _Lēoht tō eal būtan heorðgenēat_." That should work, they'd be invisible to everyone except each other.

They both muttered the incantation, and Merlin felt the cold shiver pass over his body. He looked down, and saw his body was still there, and found he could also still see Gehola. Had it worked?

A guard was coming down the passageway towards them. Merlin took a deep breath and stepped out in full view. The guard passed by without so much as glancing at him. Merlin sank in relief, making a note to thank Gaius for forcing him to learn the language of the Old Religion; he'd always said he would have to make up his own spells in a hurry some day.

He beckoned to Gehola and they crept down the corridor together, making sure to make no noise, invisibility did not prevent them from being discovered by hearing. They silently moved down the long staircase, taking care their footsteps were not heard, emerging in the dungeons with their silent cells.

Merlin had never seen the place so heavily guarded before. Grim faced guards stood everywhere stock-still, staring straight ahead, weapons at hand, and Merlin knew they wouldn't hesitate to kill him immediately, despite knowing he was the Prince's manservant. Despite being invisible, Merlin knew it would be near impossible to get past them.

"Any ideas?" he whispered to Gehola.

Gehola frowned. "They're too close together, we could try and sneak past them, but they'd probably sense or hear us."

Merlin agreed. He racked his brains, how were they to do this?

Suddenly Gehola gasped loudly, and Merlin cursed inwardly, but the guards appeared not to have heard.

"Shush!" he hissed. "They'll hear!"

"Sorry! But I just remembered," whispered Gehola, almost imperceptibly. "The prophecies say Emrys has the power of time, don't they?"

Merlin's face was a blank. "Yeah, so?"

"Well...can't you stop time or something? So we can sneak around the guards?"

Merlin looked at him in bewilderment. _Stop time?_ He could slow it down, he used to do it all the time before he had much control over his abilities, and he could stop it for a brief moment over a small area, like when a drink was spilled or something, but stop it completely? It seemed impossible. He bit his lip.

"I've never done it before Gehola, I'm not sure it would work."

Gehola shook his head. "It has to...you're _Emrys."_

"It doesn't mean I know what I'm doing! The prophecies-"

"Have to have some basis in fact, don't they?" Gehola asked impatiently. "If anyone can do it, it's you. You're underestimating yourself."

Merlin sighed. It was worth a try. He concentrated fiercely, closing his eyes, searching his magic, letting it fill him up. He tried to place the sensation of what happened when he did slow down time, he'd never really given it much thought before. He concentrated, until he thought his mind would burst, trying to reach that sensation.

He opened his eyes and looked at the nearest guard. He blinked.

Merlin fell back, defeated. "I can't do it."

"Yes you can," Gehola urged. "You're just thinking about it too much. It should be instinctive."

Merlin shook himself off, and tried again. "You'd better hold onto me. I don't want you stuck in time like the rest of them."

Gehola did so, and Merlin closed his eyes again, this time, letting his mind go blank. _Stop, _ he ordered.

He felt a small ripple of power escape him.

"You did it!" Gehola shouted, his voice loud in the confined space.

Merlin's eyes shot open. The guards didn't look much different, they stood so still anyway. But when he looked at the table in the corner, where the captain of the guard sat, he noticed the man had been in the middle of pouring himself a drink. A wine bottle was suspended over a small wooden goblet, blood red liquid hanging in the air.

Merlin laughed in astonishment. He'd done it!

He and Gehola exchanged grins and walked freely down the corridor lined with statuesque guards, ducking under some crossed blades obstructing the entry to the furthest row of cells, where Merlin guessed the prisoner would be located.

They'd turned the corner, and Merlin let his mind go blank again, and thought about time starting up again, and soon enough, he heard the sound of wine being poured. It certainly was a strange experience.

They passed down this corridor, full of empty cells, the stench of Hyre getting closer and closer until Merlin stopped, looking straight ahead.

Gwaine was standing in front of one of the cell doors, his face inscrutable, with guards on either side.

_What was he doing here? _Merlin panicked. Did Hyre know who he was? Was Gwaine figuring out the truth?

As if on cue Gwaine spoke: "And what does Emrys look like?"

A harsh voice came from within the cell. "I have only ever seen him from a distance. He was thin, with pale skin and black hair."

Gwaine nodded, as though something had just been confirmed. "And what of his clothes? What did he wear?"

Merlin's breathing stopped. _Please don't answer. _Gwaine would be sure to recognise a description of his clothes, he rarely wore anything else.

"All I saw was a black cloak. Didn't see what he had on underneath."

"But did he look like a noble?" Gwaine asked, moving closer, grabbing the bars of the cell. "Was he well dressed, or did he look like a servant?"

_He knew._

But Hyre obviously didn't.

"It was a black cloak, what else do you want me to say? They all look the same to me."

Gwaine slumped back, sighing.

"Thank you, you've been most helpful. I'll take the information you've given into consideration when Arthur decides to sentence you."

Merlin felt alarmed; what information had he given Gwaine?

Gwaine turned from the cell and spoke to the guards: "Don't let him out of your sight."

The guards nodded, and Gwaine turned and strode down the corridor towards Merlin and Gehola, who only just managed to jump out of the way in time.

As he passed, Gwaine stopped, and frowned, turning his head slightly to stare at the spot Merlin was standing. Merlin hardly dared to breath. But Gwaine shook his head slightly, and continued on his way. Merlin let out his breath. That had been close. He reminded himself to get rid of his black cloak before Gwaine saw it.

He grabbed Gehola again and pulled him down the corridor to the cell door, and looked in. The man named Hyre was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, and what looked like several bones. He sat smiling to himself, laughing occasionally and staring out the window. Merlin felt revulsion seep in. This man was mad, and wasted. Should he really release him?

The memories of the meeting came back to him however. Wrecan, and surely Hafela, would kill him if he returned without him. He had to do this. For Camelot's sake, as abhorrent as it was.

"_Slǣpan."_

The guards on either side of the cell fell to the ground, their eyes drooping, and Merlin used magic to catch them before they hit the ground and made a loud clamouring noise. They were fast asleep.

Hyre looked up, his eyes darting around wildly.

"Who's there? Is it a ghost? Because even you cannot frighten me, I am death itself!"

Merlin made himself visible again, followed by Gehola.

"It's Emrys."

Hyre contemplated him, his black eyes glinting. "So I see. And still without the Eyes. How do you do it I wonder?"

Merlin ignored him.

"_Tōberstan!"_ The cell blasted open, sending dust flying everywhere in the small corridor, and bricks tumbling to the floor. Hyre sat watching him.

"Come on!" Merlin shouted, the guards would be there any minute; there was no way they couldn't have heard that.

Hyre blinked. "Why?"

Merlin couldn't believe this, he could already hear the guards on their way. "They'll kill you!"

Hyre didn't look fazed. "I'm already dead."

Merlin was too impatient for this. If he had to drag him out, he would. But he didn't have to.

"Is this what Ides would've wanted, Hyre?" asked Gehola softly.

Hyre's whole demeanour changed. "Ides? No, she wouldn't have...who is she again?"

Merlin was just as clueless, but it seemed to be working. Hyre stood up looking into the distance. "She wouldn't forgive me for what I did to her."

"Yes she will," Merlin said, throwing all caution to the wind. "If you come with us she will."

Hyre nodded dreamily, and walked out of the cell. Merlin wanted to grab him as well as Gehola, but apart from the immense stench, he was afraid of pulling off some body part or another, he looked so fragile.

Merlin and Gehola set off at a run down the corridor, with Hyre shuffling along behind them. Merlin led the way to the grating in the dungeons through which he and Arthur had managed to break Mordred out of all those years ago. He hoped it wasn't guarded.

Guards came up behind them, running at them with weapons. Merlin panicked; how was he to get rid of them without them seeing who he was?

"_Slǣpan!_" Gehola shouted, and the guards tumbled to the ground asleep. Merlin shot an appreciative look at Gehola. He really did learn fast.

"Nice one."

They hurried down the corridor, turning several times, Merlin frantically trying to remember the route. Hyre came behind them at a snail's pace, and Merlin had to fight the urge not to just knock him out and drag him. They reached the entranceway to the corridor where the grating was. It was guarded. _Great, _thought Merlin. He should have known Arthur would have it guarded, he knew how useful it was for escaping prisoners.

The two guards saw them and rushed forwards, brandishing swords. Merlin didn't think twice.

With a flash of his eyes, the two men were thrown backwards several feet, hitting the stone wall and sliding to the ground unconscious. Merlin cursed, he hadn't meant to hit them so hard; he didn't want them dead.

He stepped around the prone forms of the guards and crept closer to the grating. As far as he could tell, there was no one on the other end.

"_Tōberstan!_" Merlin yelled, and the grating flew off the wall and out into the night with an almighty clang. Choking on dust, they climbed their way out, and stood outside the walls of Camelot, next to the woods. Merlin heard guards yelling from within the tunnels, they were close on their heels.

"Merlin, we have to go!" Gehola shouted, starting to look afraid for the first time.

Merlin opened his mouth to say the incantation to get them out of there, but a sudden inspiration hit him. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it right.

He lifted his palm into the air and called forth his magic with every ounce of energy he could muster, his eyes glowing.

A gigantic flame appeared in the night sky, burning brightly as the sun, immense heat almost scorching Merlin's face. As they watched, the flame glided through the air, dipping and weaving its way through the sky, leaving a trail of fire behind it.

It spelled out a single word.

It looked pretty good, Merlin had to admit. It would send a message.

"Merlin!" Gehola yelled, and reached out and grabbed both himself and Hyre, shouting the words of the Transportation spell.

* * *

Gwaine fought his way through dust and rubble, into the night air outside the tunnels. How could the prisoner be escaping? He'd only just left the damn place! He _knew_ he'd sensed someone down in the tunnels!

He darted around guards in an enchanted sleep; the prisoner couldn't get away!

He emerged in the woods, ablaze with a golden light. He looked upwards in awe at the word raging in fire above the ground.

_Emrys._

Below the fiery word, three figures stood holding onto each other.

"Merlin!" he heard someone cry.

All of a sudden, great winds were buffeting around the woods, forcing Gwaine back.

But he saw, the three figures turning. One was the prisoner, one was an unknown youth, and the other, was Merlin.

Gwaine felt his breath catch in his throat. Merlin was helping him escape.

Was Merlin Emrys?

Merlin at that moment, turned to his left to look at the other person in the group.

Gwaine looked more closely at him. He was young, tall, skinny, pale skinned with black hair.

He was in the middle of yelling something, in some foreign tongue. Then his eyes flashed gold.

Gwaine gasped. _This _was Emrys.

And then they vanished.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! Sorry if this is a cliffhanger again, it's just how I like to end my chapters! :)  
**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Yes! I'm alive! Again, sorry for not updating, but I deliberately uploaded several chapters at once last time because I knew I wouldn't have much time this summer! Since my last update I have...gained AAAAAABC in my Higher exams (so all that studying instead of updating wasn't wasted!), been accepted into the University of Glasgow, went to dozens of meetings and important lecture things, went on holiday, saw HP7 part 2 (OMG!), discovered another awesome book series and tv series and am now in my second week without an internet connection at home. So...sorry!**

**Because it's been a while, here's a quick recap! Partly for my benefit!**

* * *

Gwaine is now getting very suspicious and is almost certain Merlin is Emrys, Arthur is also suspicious, Lancelot is worried Merlin is getting in too deep with the Wandrian and the Wandrian are now suspicious of Merlin and think he's betraying them. So, Merlin had to break Hyre, a member of the Wandrian out of jail with the help of Gehola, the only nice one of the Wandrian, and Gwaine saw the two of them, and now believes Gehola is Emrys. And also, the Wandrian are waiting for Morgana to arrive because she is the only one able to open the 'portal' which they want badly, for reasons yet unknown. All ready? Here we go!

* * *

**Chapter 15- Emrys?**

Arthur stormed angrily into the Council Chambers, the sounds of the Warning Bell still clanging in his ears, refusing to accept what he'd just been told. The sorcerer had escaped.

How was this possible? The man was guarded more heavily than a king's ransom, he was half skeleton for crying out loud! He _must _have had help.

He cursed his bad luck. Why would any sorcerers care so much about the man, he was insane! Was is really worth the risk. The brightly burning letters written in flame, now hovering above the city like sunlight during the night taunted him: 'Emrys'.

Emrys had been there, in the dungeons, with all those guards. How could Arthur had underestimated him?

He was greeted in the Council Chambers by his Knights who were gathered around the table looking nervous at his demeanour. Other members of Court hovered uncertainly around the outer walls of the chamber. Was one of them Emrys?

"If you're not one of my Knights, then leave this room immediately." Arthur commanded, rather more fiercely than he would normally have done. But this was no time for politeness. This was urgent. This was personal. Emrys had slipped beneath his nose once again. From within these very walls.

They all left without question casting frightened glances in his direction. Arthur didn't care. He was angry, he was determined, and also scared. Scared at what had occurred.

Arthur looked his Knights over.

"How was this possible? Only you five knew about the sorcerer, and a few trusted guards. No other members of Court could possibly have known."

"You're not suggesting we had anything to do with it Sire?" Elyan looked at him in wonderment.

Arthur looked back at him. "I'm not sure what I'm suggesting any more. Everything we do, no matter with how much secrecy we do it, is always anticipated by the enemy. How?"

His Knights exchanged thoughtful glances, and Arthur grew impatient. He'd never felt so much on edge before in his life, not even in the heat of battle. Everything they did, every small accomplishment they had managed to make and it was always undermined by the enemy. They had finally made progress, capturing one of their own, finding out more about Emrys, only for it all to be shoved back in their faces again. Arthur was spoiling for a fight; he'd never had more hatred of magic before than he did now.

Percival spoke: "Emrys is a sorcerer my Lord, we must accept that he has ways of finding out things we cannot. Methods of extracting information from unwilling minds, methods of persuasion. Unless you think it was one of us?"

Arthur shook his head, trying to calm himself a little, and reduce his feelings of paranoia.

"I saw you all, moments before the Warning Bell was sounded. I know none of you were there personally. Unless magic was used on you to reveal information or your minds were read or something, I know you had nothing to do with it."

Arthur said all this, trying to convince himself of their truth. They would never have told Emrys willingly about the prisoner. Then a thought struck him.

"Wait. Gwaine, I didn't see you before the escape. Just where were you?"

Gwaine's eyes flashed in anger. "You think it was me?" He asked in outrage.

Arthur fixed him with a steely gaze. "Answer the question."

Gwaine glared at him. "I was in the dungeons."

Arthur froze, his heart in his mouth. "So it _was _you?"

Gwaine shook with anger. "No. I was in the dungeons interrogating the prisoner. I had just left when I heard the blasts of the prison door being blown off. Ask any of the guards, I was with them the entire time."

Arthur relaxed, cursing himself for reacting so violently. What was he thinking? Why was he being so quick to suspect everyone he knew?

"I'm sorry."

Gwaine did not look quelled. "You know I would rather die than betray you. How could you think it was me?"

Arthur felt his anger rise once more. "I said I was sorry! In case you hadn't noticed we have a spy in the city! Someone we all trust! It could just have easily have been you!"

Gwaine opened his mouth to retort angrily when Elyan stepped in.

"Both of you, you must calm down. You wouldn't be acting this way if you hadn't been so exposed to Dark Magic all day."

Arthur willed himself to calm down, and Gwaine fell silent looking sullen, and as though he _would _be saying these things anyway. He opened his mouth again, without looking at Arthur.

"I suppose then you wouldn't be wanting to know what I found out then?"

Arthur felt his anger drain away. "The prisoner talked?"

Gwaine snorted. "Just barely. What passes for speech coming from that god-awful mouth of his."

"Well what did he say?" pressed Leon.

Gwaine looked round at them all. "He told me about the Wandrian. Who they are, where they are and what they want."

Arthur hardly dared to breath.

Gwaine continued. "They're exiles, people who used to use other magic, the magic of the 'Old Religion' he called it, harmless stuff. But then they discovered the 'Noble Art', and basically, as well as destroying their bodies, drives them insane. Most of them don't live long. They're a pathetic people; living in hovels, babbling inanely. But that just makes them more dangerous, they don't give a damn about anyone, about morality, they'd sacrifice their own children in a Dark ritual if they thought it'd give them more power."

Arthur felt a cold feeling pass down his spine. He'd thought he could hear no more evil about them.

"They're led by a man called Hafela, he's sane, mostly, and very powerful. There are two others who form the Council, equally dangerous. He didn't tell me their names, he got a bit, incoherent, at this point, but I know one of them is old and resentful of Hafela, and the other is young, with a scar on his face. Apparently a Dragonlord called Balinor gave it to him, I don't know why."

Arthur started slightly at this piece of information. He had a new-found respect for that sullen unpleasant man he'd met almost two years ago. He never thought he'd be on the side of a Dragonlord.

"Go on," Arthur encouraged.

"They're not looking for revenge, like we thought. Apparently they don't care how many sorcerers we execute. What they want is the kingdom itself."

"They live in a valley that's become so polluted by Dark Magic they can no longer live there. I didn't understand him completely, but I got the impression that they draw upon the land for their magic, turning nature into their own magic. Now the valley's ruined, they need somewhere new."

Arthur stiffened. "And they want Camelot?"

Gwaine nodded sombrely. Arthur breathed in deeply. Everything was falling into place now. They wanted the land. They were slowly trying to turn the citizens of Camelot against their rulers so they could easily take over. Even the fact that the weren't killing people made some sense now; they would need plenty of slaves when they succeeded...

Arthur shook himself, they _weren't _going to succeed. They knew their plan. They were now far better prepared.

Sir Percival stepped forward. "What about this valley? Could we find it?"

Gwaine shook his head. "It can only be reached by magic."

_Damn, _thought Arthur, though he was partly grateful. He didn't much fancy marching into a valley imbued with Dark Magic.

"There was something else Sire," said Gwaine. "The prisoner kept mentioning something about a portal."

Arthur frowned. "A portal? What kind of portal?"

"I don't know, but it didn't sound good."

Arthur paced in front of his Knights who all looked grim. A portal. He had no idea what that was about, but he knew it did not bode well for them.

"And what of Emrys? Did you discover anything else about him?"

"Yes Sire, I saw him."

Arthur wheeled around and stared at him aghast. His Knights made noises of shock and surprise. Lancelot in particular looked pale.

"Why the hell didn't you mention this before?" Arthur demanded.

Gwaine shrugged. "You didn't ask."

Arthur stood gaping at him a few moments, before shaking his head. He couldn't _believe _Gwaine sometimes.

"Tell me everything."

"I went straight back to the dungeons when I heard the sound of someone escaping. I'd thought I'd sensed someone down there, hiding, but I just shrugged it off. I saw them running towards the grating at the far end of the dungeons and then they blasted it off its hinges and went outside. Every guard I'd passed was unconscious."

"But not dead?" Lancelot inquired.

"No."

"Then what happened?"

"I followed, I couldn't see anything for all the dust and debris. Then I saw the bright light of the fire-letters and followed it. Then I heard an incantation, and the three of them vanished."

"Three of them?" Arthur asked sharply.

"Yes-" said Gwaine, and then he broke off abruptly, deep in thought.

"Who were they?" asked Leon.

Gwaine looked at him, brought back to the present.

"One of them was the prisoner obviously. One of them I- I couldn't see his face. And the other one matched the prisoner's description of Emrys; tall, thin, black hair. I saw him use magic. He grabbed on to the other two."

"Black hair?" asked Sir Percival. "That's unusual in Court. Most of the nobles have fair or brown hair."

Gwaine nodded. "I didn't recognise him as a noble. He must be a soldier or guard or-"

"Servant?" asked Percival.

Arthur tensed. He still didn't suspect Merlin did he? It was just impossible; Merlin using magic. Besides, Gwaine would've recognised him.

Gwaine seemed to have registered Percival's unspoken insinuation.

"I didn't recognise him," he said determinedly. "And I know all the servants around here."

Percival wasn't fazed. "Has anyone seen Merlin around lately?" he asked. Normally it would have been a perfectly ordinary question, but no one missed the accusation.

"Merlin was with me most of the evening," Lancelot said to Percival, almost challengingly. "We were outside the city, then he felt ill and I took him back to Gaius who gave him a remedy to help him sleep. You can go check if you wish."

But Percival didn't move. Arthur felt secretly relieved, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't suspect Merlin, did he?

"Besides, _Percy_," Gwaine said almost mockingly. "I'm sure I'd be able to recognise Merlin."

Percival rallied. "Unless you've been so blinded by affection for the boy you cannot see the truth. And you said yourself, you did not see the other man with Emrys. How do we know it wasn't Merlin?"

"And why would it be?" Elyan asked.

Percival looked around at them all. "There's something going on here. And Merlin's involved. I know he is."

Lancelot laughed hollowly. "He's currently snoring his little heart out in Gaius' chambers. Do honestly think Gaius would let him leave in the middle of the night when he was so ill?"

"Gaius can be deceived."

"And so could you!" Lancelot rounded on Percival. "Merlin's badly affected by Dark Magic. Why would he go near it if it makes him suffer so badly?"

Percival sniffed. "That's the question. Why is he so badly affected when he's had the same amount of exposure to it as we have? I'm not suggesting he's deliberately betraying us, but we have to consider the possibility he may be being forced!"

Lancelot scoffed and turned away.

Arthur's mind and heart were racing. He didn't like how this conversation was going. Every doubt he'd had in the last few days were resurfacing. He didn't bear up well under all this uncertainty. He was drowning in a deep pool, flailing around desperately, searching for a lifeline to drag him back to what he knew and was comfortable with.

"What else did you discover about Emrys Gwaine?" Arthur asked, in an effort to try and make sense of things.

Gwaine answered immediately, his eyes still fixed on Percival.

"Only most of the things we've heard before. That he's incredibly powerful. But he's young and inexperienced. He spends a great deal of time with Hafela discussing things but he appears to have no real authority amongst them, unless he's on some sort of mission for Hafela. But he refuses to use Dark Magic."

Arthur nodded, it was basically the same things he'd heard before.

"It was probably because he didn't want to make it obvious who he was," he said, partly to himself. "If he had used Dark Magic, it would have affected his body, and we would have noticed."

"It won't stop him now though, will it?" said Leon. "He's been seen now. He can't come back. He'll be able to use all the magic he wants."

Arthur felt sick to his stomach.

"Yes, but it also means they won't be able to spy any more." said Elyan.

Arthur's spirits lifted slightly. But then they were lowered once more by Percival.

"But there's still that unknown man to consider. He may also be a spy in the court. He may actually be Emrys, and the other man just had the same general description as him. We just can't tell. We're not out of the woods yet."

Arthur sighed. This was true he knew, but it didn't change the fact that for one glorious moment he'd thought they'd been one step ahead. He appreciated more than ever, how clueless they were to what they were up against. He felt a headache returning.

"You speak the truth Percival, no matter how little I like it. We must redouble our efforts. Question all the guards again, see if they noticed two people wandering around after dark. You're all dismissed."

They took their leave and Arthur was left alone in the empty chambers, thinking. Emrys, Wandrian, Merlin, Hafela...would it all ever make any sense?

* * *

Lancelot's heart thumped as he strode swiftly down the stone corridor.

What the hell has Merlin gotten himself into?

The conversations in that room had come dangerously close to revealing the truth, suspicions were rife. It had taken all his self-control to appear calm. Percival was being annoyingly perceptive, and Arthur was beginning to question.

All he had to be thankful for was Gwaine's poor night vision, or discretion. Had he seen Merlin?

Quick footsteps sounded behind him and Lancelot stopped. It looked as though he was about to find out.

He turned and wasn't remotely surprised to see Gwaine standing behind him. He gestured to an empty room and they entered, closing the door behind them.

The moonlight fell through the open window and illuminated a spot on the cold flagstone. Gwaine stepped into this light and looked squarely at Lancelot.

"I did see who the third person was."

Lancelot sighed. "I thought you might."

Gwaine studied him closely. "What the hell was Merlin doing there Lancelot?"

Lancelot bit his lip and looked briefly down at the ground before meeting Gwaine's eyes.

"Fulfilling his duty."

Gwaine looked incredulous. "He was helping Emrys break a dangerous prisoner out of jail!"

"Exactly," said Lancelot. "He had to convince Emrys he was on his side!"

Gwaine shook his head. "Are you sure? Because things aren't adding up Lancelot. Why would Emrys need two spies in Camelot? I've never seen that other man in Camelot, he's certainly never been part of our secret councils! And neither that man, nor Merlin, were in that meeting today with the prisoner!"

"You think I told Merlin?"

"Did you?"

Lancelot stared at him. "No I didn't. Emrys must have found out some other way, he is a sorcerer you know!"

Gwaine stepped closer. "You were with Merlin tonight, and I know you were lying when you said Merlin was tucked up in bed. I saw you come back into Camelot, and Merlin wasn't with you. What really happened?"

Lancelot paused. How much could he say without giving Merlin away? It was just pure luck that Gwaine had not seen Merlin using his magic, which he had undoubtedly been doing, and that the other person with Merlin vaguely resembled him. He honestly had no idea who this person was, but he hoped his existence would be enough to cast suspicion away from Merlin for a while.

"We were outside the city, Merlin felt ill and wanted some air. Then he got a message from Emrys, saying there was a captive in the dungeons and that Merlin had to help him free him. So I came back into the city, and Merlin went off to meet Emrys in the woods somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know! Merlin said I shouldn't go, so I didn't. And that's the last I saw of him."

"So where is he now?"

Lancelot sighed. "With Emrys I suppose."

Gwaine nodded, and to Lancelot's relief he appeared to be satiated.

"I don't like the thought of him being with that man."

Lancelot nodded. He knew Emrys was harmless, but according to Merlin's description, Hafela was not. And Lancelot had no idea who this other young man was, was he also an enemy?

"We're going to have to be careful Lancelot," said Gwaine seriously. "People are going to watching Merlin much more closely in future. We'll have to make sure he doesn't give himself away. If Arthur finds out..." he trailed off. Lancelot agreed, no matter how much good Merlin had done for Camelot, it still wouldn't be exactly pleasant when Arthur found out his servant had been lying to him. And that was before they introduced the magic.

"I'm worried about him," Lancelot admitted. "Not just because of Arthur, but the Wandrian. I'm afraid they'll get some sort of hold over him that he won't be able to escape from."

Gwaine made a noise of assent. "I'd hate to think what Emrys'd do to him if he found out. He's in a dangerous situation. And then there's the whole Balinor thing."

Lancelot frowned, genuinely confused. "Balinor? That Dragonlord? What's he got to do with anything?"

Gwaine's eyes glinted slightly. "You don't know? Balinor was Merlin's father."

Lancelot stood stock-still for one moment, feeling suddenly very stupid. Of course Merlin was the son of some powerful Dragonlord, it made sense! The Dragonlords had vanished around the time Merlin was born, Merlin's magic was instinctive and elemental, almost as though it was in his blood, Merlin had been there when Camelot had been attacked by the dragon, he'd had a sword _forged in the breath of a dragon_...not to mention the fact that the Dragonlords were of the Old Religion, the direct opposite of Dark Magic. No wonder it affected Merlin so badly!

Gwaine laughed at Lancelot's expression. "He tells you everything eh?"

A small twinge of resentment crept in. Why hadn't Merlin told him? But then he reminded himself, he knew _much _more important secrets than who his father was.

Lancelot regained his composure. "So what does Balinor have to do with it all?"

Gwaine's amusement evaporated. "The prisoner said Balinor and one of the Council members of the Wandrian had some sort of run-in many years ago. He's apparently got some huge scar right across his face because of it. I'm worried that he may resent Merlin for that, and try to, I don't know, take his revenge or something."

Lancelot frowned. It was more than possible.

"They might not know Merlin's his son," Lancelot reasoned.

"Perhaps," conceded Gwaine. "I've no idea what happened. Merlin never mentioned anything like that. Then again, he never really knew his father. He probably has no idea that his father and the Wandrian ever met."

Lancelot thought, this added a whole new dimension. Maybe the Wandrian had only recruited Merlin for that reason. Had they been meaning to take revenge the whole time?

Gwaine glanced towards the door where footsteps were heard passing by. They both remained silent until they faded away out of earshot.

"I should go," said Gwaine. "I have so much to do before morning."

Lancelot agreed. "I'll go round to Gaius' in the morning, see if Merlin's back, and try and find out some more."

Gwaine nodded. "Now that he knows I've seen Emrys he might be more willing to talk. I must say I am slightly relieved. Up till that point I saw Emrys, all the evidence had pointed to it being Merlin who was really Emrys."

Here Gwaine fixed Lancelot with an intense stare, who forced out a laugh.

"Merlin, Emrys? I admit, he's smarter and braver than we give him credit for, but _magic?_ I think that's where I draw the line."

Gwaine smiled, but still continued to stare at Lancelot.

"So you really don't have a clue who Emrys is?"

Lancelot's fist clenched behind his back as he prepared to give the lie that sprung to his lips far too easily these days.

"I really have no idea."

* * *

Merlin lay on his back with his eyes closed, his back against the hard earth, listening to the rustling of trees in the clearing.

_Ow!_

He felt bruised all over, as though every bone in his body had been shattered, and his head swam from the impact it had had with the ground. He just wanted to lie here for hours without moving. But-

"Ha! I did it!"

Merlin opened his eyes a crack and saw Gehola leaping excitedly around the clearing, a joyous expression on his face.

He turned his head and saw Hyre lying on the ground a few feet away, his body curled up, moaning to himself.

Gehola's excited laughs ended abruptly as he stopped and stared at the pair of them.

"What's wrong?"

Merlin sighed exasperatedly. "You might have landed on your feet, but you just slammed the both of us into the ground with the force of a charging rhino!"

Gehola looked guilty for the briefest of moments, but then his expression changed to curiosity.

"What's a rhino?"

Merlin frowned. "I'm not sure. It's mentioned in one of Gaius' old books. Apparently it's very big."

"Oh, well, sorry. It was my first time doing a Transportation spell."

"I noticed," Merlin grumbled, pulling himself to his feet. His ankle throbbed, and the wobbled dangerously. He must have twisted it when he fell. He regarded Gehola closely for a moment. "How did you do it?"

Gehola frowned. "Do what?"

"The spell, how did you do it?"

"I just copied what you did to get us there but changed the words around a little. Replaced 'Camelot' with 'Wandrian'."

Merlin shook his head. "No, I mean the actual spell. That spell takes years to master, it has to be studied carefully. It even took me ages to learn it. But you did it on the spur of the moment without any trouble."

"But I didn't do it perfectly. You were hurt!"

Merlin still stared at him. "But it worked. Most people when they first try only move a couple of feet, if at all. And sometimes it can go horribly wrong, and you find yourself stuck between the two places. But you did it, easily almost."

Gehola looked alarmed. "Well, I uh, I knew it was important we get out of there. There wasn't time to practice. I just took a risk."

Merlin hobbled closer to him, and Gehola's eyes widened even further. "But it wasn't just that last spell, the other spells, the ones you'd never done before, you managed perfectly, even though you've never had any training. And you were able to help me figure out how to use my own abilities, when I should've known that."

Gehola backed off, looking frightened. "I was just lucky. I pick stuff up easily."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. There was something Gehola was hiding. But it didn't matter at the moment, not when it was working to his advantage.

"You're right. You must just be a fast learner," Merlin said flippantly, watching Gehola carefully and seeing his expression relax.

"Yeah, that's it. Thank goodness we got out of there so quickly before anyone could see us."

Merlin felt as though something ice cold had just dropped into his stomach. Someone had seen them.

He'd been so preoccupied with discovering how Gehola had managed to get them out of there, he hadn't had time to think about what had happened as they left. Gwaine had seen them.

Had he seen Merlin using magic? Or had he just seen Gehola using it?

Either way, Gwaine knew Merlin had helped Hyre to escape, and that wasn't good. Even Lancelot who knew the whole story hadn't approved.

Would Gwaine tell Arthur? Surely not, he'd try and talk to Merlin first wouldn't he? He wouldn't turn him in without trying to learn the truth. Thank the gods it hadn't been Percival who'd seen them.

But what exactly had Gwaine seen? Had he seen Merlin creating the fire-letters in the sky? If he had then Merlin was as good as doomed, nothing screamed guilty more than sending fire into the sky to spell out the name of Camelot's now worst enemy, his own name.

Or had he just arrived as Gehola had grabbed Merlin and Hyre and vanished? If that was all he had seen, Merlin might still have some hope. Would Gwaine think Gehola was Emrys? It wasn't too far fetched, Gehola and Merlin both looked similar, could Gwaine have assumed the one using magic had to be Emrys? More than ever, Merlin was glad he had convinced Gehola to start calling him Merlin instead of Emrys.

But that would mean Gehola was in danger.

Merlin looked over to him. If Gwaine thought he was Emrys, he'd be searching for him. He felt guilt wash over him, Gehola didn't deserve more danger in his life. If he left the Wandrian, he'd be hunted down by Camelot Knights, if he stayed with the Wandrian, he'd be slowly worn away by Dark Magic.

Everything was a mess.

"Come on," said Merlin, gesturing to Gehola. "We have to get _this_ back to Hafela."

Gehola nodded, and they both approached Hyre who was still sobbing uncontrollably on the ground, moaning hysterically.

The grimaced, and reached down to pull him up.

Not so far off, in the Castle of the Wandrian, Hafela stood at the window looking over the realm, as he did every night. Emrys had returned, he could sense that, and Hyre was with him.

Hafela shifted slightly as he sensed this. Hyre was the last remnant of his life before the Wandrian, when they had both lived in peace, practising magic together. Then the Noble Art had found them. Hafela had never looked back, but it had ruined Hyre. He was destroyed, body and mind, the death of his wife as a result of his twisted experiments driving him over the edge.

Hafela cared not. Hyre was weak, unable to fully embrace the Noble Art. But still there was a tiny part of him that remembered those days. Hafela had introduced Hyre to Dark Magic, he was responsible for him. As abhorrent as the task was, Hafela had a duty to Hyre for what remained of his pathetic life.

"Hafela? Are they coming?" Gamol asked from behind.

Hafela moved his head slightly. "Emrys approaches with Hyre in tow. It seems you were wrong Wrecan."

He heard Wrecan spit from behind. "Just because he rescued that worthless worm from the pits at Camelot doesn't mean he's on our side."

Hafela breathed in. "Perhaps. But there is still time to see. Are you ready to meet Emrys, my Lady?" And he turned to see the woman who had just entered the room.

"I've been waiting a long time for this," the Lady Morgana smiled as she crossed the room and stood by his side. "I shall know whether he is to be trusted."

Hafela chuckled. "I have no doubt you shall."

* * *

**A/N: Please review! :D**

**I need them! I have no internet at home, I have no new books to read, I've seen every movie at home a million times, my friends are all at college, my Uni course doesn't start for another month...I have nothing to occupy me!**

**Not to mention every time I try and drive to the library, I get stuck behind a herd of cows and famers moving to the next field. Sometimes living in the countryside sucks!**

**Rant over! ;)**

**P.S I honestly can't say when the next chapter will be up. It's almost finished, but my internet access is in doubt for a while. Ima try walking the ten miles over fields to the library now, I'm going crazy!**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16- Betrayal or Loyalty?

**A/N: Yes, I know, I'm a cruel cruel person for keeping you all waiting for so long. My updating record is awful. I've just started uni, so I've had dozens of essays and important stuff going on so, yeah. Sorry! Btw, what makes me start writing again is when I start to get loads of Pms begging me to update. I'll let you know now, they totally guilt trip me into writing again! Take note for the next time; send me a Private Message, and an update shall soon follow! Btw, sorry if you sent me one and I didn't reply, I've been rushed off my feet!**

**On an unrelated note, HOW AWESOME IS SEASON 4? Literally living for Saturday nights now! Even though the first two episodes were VERY similar to the storyline of this fic and the way I was hoping on resolving it! Just so's you know folks, I wrote this and planned it well before Season 4 started, so any similarities are just the producers stealing my ideas ;)**

**Enjoy! :D**

* * *

The Druid named Nied, shivered and clasped his cloak further around his shoulders. The cold night air stung at his face and left all exposed skin raw to touch. He stamped his feet in an effort to keep warm, but to no avail. His breath rose in a mist before him. He wished more than anything else to be able to do some sort of spell to warm himself, but despite this being forbidden by the Druid Elders, it would have done no good.

No one was ever warm this close to the Portal.

Nied was the youngest of the Bewiten, the Guardians, the elite of his clan charged with the sacred duty of guarding the Portal. He still hadn't acclimatised to the immense cold ever present in the miles surrounding the Portal.

He shivered again and wrapped his arms ever more tightly around his body. He'd never even wanted to be one of the Guardians, he'd had no choice in the matter. He was one of the few Druids blessed with the ability to draw magic of the Old Religion from the nature surrounding him, and therefore had a natural resilience to Dark Magic.

Which was the reason therefore that he was standing in an icy-cold forest in front of a cave of darkness in the middle of the night.

He shuddered, though not because of the cold. The knowledge of the immense evil that lay within that cave frightened him, and he wished he could ran as far as he could in the other direction. But to do so would be suicide. One did not shirk away from their pre-destined duty.

It was here that the veil between this world and the next was fragile, where all Dark Magic seeped into the world. The Druids had long ago given up hope of repairing the veil, and sought now only to guard it, lest someone should try to open it further, and the release the full force of Dark Magic into the world.

The woods were completely silent, no one lived near here, no one dared. Soldiers from Camelot, the nearest city, avoided this place. Even ignorant as they were as to what truly lay here, they all agreed there was a 'bad feeling' about the place, and never passed through. It had been wiped from all their maps through an ancient Druidic spell, and those who retained its whereabouts in their minds warned all others about it, and no person was ever tempted to come here.

The only person expected was the one person, the one in all the centuries with the power to open the Portal. And according to all their calculations, this person had been born within the last century.

Nied cast his eyes around the still trees and the dark shadows behind them. He was terrified this person would show up. Whoever it was would be powerful, no doubt skilled in Dark Magic, what could a Druid do against such a person?

If the Portal was opened...

A snapping of a twig sent Nied's heart into his mouth. Shaking and with wide eyes and a dry throat he croaked out: _"Hwa willa cunnian se dor?"_

A small raspy voice sounded back. _"Hit ic Wacian, a Stiweard Bewiten."_

Nied slumped back in relief. "Wacian, you frightened me!"

Wacian, an aged mole of a man stepped forward. "A fine guardian you are to be frightened so easily on the brink of so much evil."

Nied scowled. "You crept up on me."

Wacian shuffled towards Nied, his weathered stick tapping on the ground. "Do you think the Prophecied One shall announce themselves before stepping forward? Do you think they shall ask politely to step into the Cave of the Veil? No, they shall not. And you must be prepared for every eventuality."

Nied looked away and refused to answer. Wacian sighed and placed his hand on Nied's shoulder.

"You have much to learn Young One. There is much that needs to be done. The time of the Prophesied One is drawing closer. Even now, forces are at work."

"And what are we expected to be able to do to stop them?"

Wacian looked up at the moon, shining overhead. "Guard the Portal, as we have done for centuries past."

"But Wacian, we cannot fight Dark Magic!" Nied let all his accumulated anxiety and frustrations spill out of him. "There is nothing we can do!"

Wacian seemed to glow in the moonlight, his aged features looked as though they were carved in stone.

"No. Emrys shall be the one to stop them."

Nied refrained from rolling his eyes with great difficulty.

"No one knows who Emrys is. We don't even know if he exists!"

"Oh, he exists. I felt the earth change when he was born, I felt the momumental shift in magic. He is alive, and he shall be the one to stop the Prophesied One when the time to open the Portal comes."

Nied shivered. "And who is the Prophesied One? And how shall Emrys recognise them?"

Wacian blinked slowly and turned to face Nied.

"Emrys alone shall know. He alone can save us all. It is our duty to all in our power to help him. The Prophesied One has allied with our enemies, and Emrys shall soon face his choice."

"Choice?"

"Emrys' path is not clear as a mountain stream. Darkness and shadow will overcome him, and he shall fight for the light. He shall face the Prophesied One, and choose whose side he is on."

Nied frowned. "I thought he was on our side."

Wacian laughed. "And that is why you have much to learn. It is not all as simple as that. Emrys shall face many difficulties along his path. And we must be here to aid him."

A cloud covered the moon, and plunged the clearing in which the cave lay into even deeper darkness.

"Go back to the village and rest Nied," said Wacian. "I shall guard tonight."

Nied turned to leave, but before he had gone a few steps, Wacian called him back.

"I expect your dedication and determination to improve Nied," he said, his expression ashy. "The time is approaching when all shall be decided."

Nied nodded and left the clearing. All his hopes now rested on Emrys.

* * *

"The Portal, the Portal the Portal..." Hyre muttered to himself continuously as Merlin and Gehola dragged him unceremoniously through the Forest of No Life. It was hard work, brambles and thorns caught at their clothes, and Hyre's evident unwillingness to go any further combined with his immense stench tempted Merlin dearly to just dump him there and risk the anger of the Wandrian.

Gehola met his eyes and grimaced. How could he cope with this unbearable stench day after day?

They slowly made their way forwards, grunting with the effort of dragging the writhing sorcerer, who seemed to be fighting them with every last bit of strength he possessed, which wasn't much, even Merlin and Gehola, skinny as they both were, managed to subdue him. All the while, he thought about the Portal.

The Wandrian were after this Portal, and Morgana was involved somehow. They wanted her to open it. Merlin thought back to his conversation with Kilgarrah. He had mentioned a Portal, and that Morgana's 'pure and untamed magic' was the only thing that could open it.

_There is a Portal, where the veil between this world and the world of the Dark is fragile and ripped. If this Portal is opened, the Darkness shall invade and there shall be a Purge of the Light. Shadow, death, fear, hate, shall consume the land and all within it, and the Wandrian shall rule supreme. That is their aim. Once they have subjugated Camelot, they shall set their eyes on unleashing this horror upon the entire world, releasing every foul creature and evil form of magic to wreak havoc in their name. At present, it is guarded by __the Druids, but they will fall easily to the might of the Wandrian. The Portal can only be opened by pure and untainted magic, magic which is impossible to tame."_

He shuddered as he thought of this. Once the Portal was opened, the world would be doomed. He remembered the prophecy about the one who could open the Portal. Was it really about Morgana? If so, there was still a chance. It had said only Emrys could bring her back from the darkness; could he? If Morgana allied herself with the Wandrian, could she still be coerced? Would she even listen to Merlin, when she knew everything he had done, and when she discovered he was the legendary Emrys?

"Merlin," Gehola murmured, stopping in his tracks and staring straight ahead. "Look."

Merlin looked. The valley was as ever shrouded in darkness, the ramshackle houses illuminated by the moonlight, silence permeating the air like some foul disease. But the people, they were standing huddled together, not wailing and moaning as usual, but silent as the grave, stock-still, as though afraid to move. Their faces were not contorted with madness as was the norm, nor were they vacant or vague, but alert and wary. They resembled in no manner the lost, insane people Merlin had seen on his first visit to this place, they almost seemed normal. For the first time Merlin had seen them, they seemed fully aware of what was happening in the world around them, and they were afraid.

Gehola and Merlin stood staring at each other in confusion. Hyre's sobs and babbling faded away into silence, now they had entered the valley from the forest.

"Gehola," said Merlin, his voice sounding so unnaturally loud in the silence he reduced it to a whisper. "What's going on?"

Gehola's face looked frightened, more frightened than Merlin had ever seen it.

"Something's changed. Something I don't even want to think about."

Merlin looked from his scared features, back to the huddled masses. He saw Nacod, the crazy half-naked man who spoke in riddles. Even he was standing still, not spouting prophecies from his lips as normal, but waiting, as though he sensed some great evil nearby.

"Gehola,what is going on?" Merlin asked again, a little impatiently.

Gehola bit his lip and whispered: " They can sense the changed that's coming, something that's going to affect them all. We've been discussing this for years."

"What change?"

Gehola threw him a side-glance, before looking back to the village.

"The one who can open the Portal is here."

Merlin froze. The Portal. Morgana?

* * *

Morgana stood side-by-side with Hafela at the open window looking out over the valley, making no secret of her displeasure. The acrid stench of everyone in this room almost completely overwhelmed her, and the great realm of the Wandrian which she had heard spoken of with such fear and reverence was nothing more than a filthy hovel filled with the insane. All of her hopes had been resting on these people, only for her to discover how truly pathetic they were.

For some reason, the Dark Magic did not affect her, one thing she was grateful for. In other aspects however, her magic was less than useless. She could light a flame, she could move a book across a desk, but aside from that her powers were non-existent. She could feel it, burning away inside her, a constant reminder of the powers she possessed within in her, but always tantalisingly out of reach, taunting her. It manifested itself in her dreams, when she didn't want it, when she was angry and upset, but she could not control it. And that infuriated her. She could not summon her powers at will to do however she pleased, she could not harness those powers, she could not even use them to heal her own sister...

Morgause's fate make her blood boil with rage. Battered and lifeless, Morgana had taken her sister's limp form to the Isle of the Blessed, where the High Priestesses vowed to do all they could to save her, but Morgana still didn't forgive herself for not knowing how to protect her herself. She was worthless, less than useless. But no more.

The Wandrian had a plan, a plan to destroy Camelot. And though their motives were not fueled by revenge, Morgana's were. Camelot had been the place where everything had been taken from her. Where she had lived in fear and oppression for most of her life, where she had almost lost her sister, where her brother still dwelt, no doubt trying to track her down. Camelot had to pay for all she had suffered, and the Wandrian could help her with that.

She cared not about Dark Magic, either learning to use it, or subjugating everyone to its might. She just wanted a chance to strike back at Camelot. And from what little she knew about the Portal she was supposed to open, there was no better way.

Hafela moved closer to her as he shifted his weight, and Morgana fought the urge to retch. He disgusted her, as everyone here did, and she felt shame at what her sister would think of her for associating herself with such filth, but she reminded herself, she needed them, as unenthusiastic as she may be about it.

And then there was Emrys.

The High Priestesses had told her of the return of Emrys, the most powerful sorcerer to ever have lived, and the one to unite Albion and restore magic to the kingdoms. It had been the news that Emrys had allied with the Wandrian that had brought Morgana here. Joining with a rag-tag bunch of disillusioned sorcerers after her exit from Camelot and haphazardly ravaging and looting towns hadn't been her ideal choice of life. And she had no qualms about leaving them. She didn't care about burning down villages, stealing their food and confidence in Camelot. She needed to learn. She had to learn how to control her magic, how to protect those she cared about, to use her immense power however she liked.

And who better to teach her than Emrys?

From what she had been told, Emrys was a member of the Royal Court of Camelot, and this made her slightly angry. Had he been there all those years in Camelot, watching her despair and struggle with the revelation of who she was? Surely he had known of her power, why had he not helped her? Had he thought she would be loyal to Camelot and the King?

But no matter why Emrys had not come forth to help her in her hour of need, he was coming now, and soon she would know his identity. And then she would be unstoppable.

"My lady?" Hafela tentatively asked, drawing closer to her. "We must make our plans my lady. If we want to strike out at Camelot by opening the Veil, it must be soon. We cannot linger."

Morgana pursed her lips. "All in good time. First I must meet with Emrys."

The one called Wrecan scoffed. "And what pray tell me why is he so special? I doubt he even is the legendary Emrys. True, he has power enough, but I don't trust him."

Hafela's face darkened. "So you have told us many times Wrecan. You must not allow your grudge to impair your judgement. That the boy is Emrys, I have no doubt. It is evident by just sensing his presence."

"Boy?" echoed Morgana, frowning. "The legendary Emrys is a boy?"

"Not exactly. But he's hardly as old as I am either," chuckled Gamol. "You shall see for yourself. I do not think he is much younger than you are. Perhaps you shall recognise him?"

Morgana scowled. "Perhaps I shall. And then he shall pay for watching me suffer all these years."

Wrecan looked gleeful.

Hafela however spoke to her with a warning tone in his voice. "What shall you do to him? He cannot be blamed for not helping you; after all why should he have? What use would it be to him? We need him Morgana. His magic is incomparable. Once we have converted him to Dark Magic, he shall be a valuable weapon."

Morgana wheeled around to face him. "What use would it have been? We could have been allies, we could have learned together! He saw me suffering and turned away!"

"And do you regret that he did?" asked Hafela. "If he had not ignored you, would you have been as close to your sister? Would you have realised your true destiny? No, you would not. You would have stayed in Camelot like a good little girl, playing the perfect ward. It is your sufferings that have made you thus Morgana."

Morgana blanched. True, If she had not felt so alone all those years, she never would have sought the help of Morgause, she would never have realised who she really was. She'd still be loyal to Uther, living in his palace, oblivious. Now she realised how despicable Uther really was, and how deserving of punishment. Still, if she'd learned to control her magic and stayed in the palace...no! She wouldn't allow herself to think that. She was glad to be shot of Camelot, glad Uther was now a broken man, glad to truly be herself for the first time. It was no use lamenting over what had been. The present was what counted now. She didn't regret or long for her old life in the slightest ...

Just then, the other part of what Hafela had said struck her. "What do you mean 'once you've converted Emrys to Dark Magic'?" Morgana pressed. "Is he not already one of you?"

Hafela hesitated. "He has allied with us."

Morgana wasn't fazed. "He is not a user of Dark Magic?"

"No, he is not."

Morgana turned away in scorn. "Your most powerful weapon is useless?"

"Not as such my lady. His magic is inordinately powerful, even without Dark Magic. And continued exposure to it will gradually corrupt him."

"And is it working?"

"No! It is not!" voiced Wrecan. "He's a bloody Dragonlord! He's drawing his magic from outwith his body! It will not fully corrupt him!"

Morgana stood absolutely still. "Is this true? You told me Emrys was the only one who would be able to stop me, but not to worry because he was on your side, and now you tell me he is neither one of you, or is likely to be any time soon. And what's more, you doubt his loyalties! Could you not be certain before you summoned me here? He could be a spy for Camelot! Samhain is only a few weeks away, by your reckoning the best time to open the Portal, and your greatest ally is in doubt?"

Hafela stepped towards her, holding out his ruined hands as a gesture for her to calm down, but this time Morgana made no effort to conceal her disgust at his figure. He noticed, and hung back, anger simmering in his eyes.

"Regardless of whether Emrys is a spy or is not, he provides us with access to the goings-on at Camelot. Something, I might add, _you _are no longer in any position to do. I may not put much stock in all of the old prophecies, but in this I am sure. Emrys shall fall. It will be gradual, true, but soon he shall not be able to resist the allure of the Noble Art."

Morgana shook her head in horror. She could not believe he would so much faith in such a ridiculous notion.

"If he is a member of the Court at Camelot, he must have been there for quite some time. If that is the case, his loyalty to Camelot may not be so easy to break."

Hafela flashed her a smug grin, his grotesque mouth stretched out in an open grimace. "_You _were not so difficult to sway. You barely knew Morgause, and yet you sacrificed everything for her, your home, your life, your friends, your father and brother... you found it exceptionally easy to turn your back on them."

Morgana faltered, and was for a moment unable to speak. Then: "I had my reasons. They had betrayed me, oppressed me...what reason does Emrys have for betraying Camelot?"

Hafela shrugged. "He has lived in the city for a while now, how many sorcerers do you think he has seen put to death over the years, how frustrated do you think he is to have so much power but be unable to use it? He will see how much better it will be once we have control of the city and have opened the Portal."

Morgana faced away from him, and stepped towards the window where she had a domineering view over the valley, and the destruction that lay within it. Opening the Portal. Unleashing the horrors of Dark Magic on the land, converting the natural magic of the Old Religion, making the Wandrian invincible ... was that what she wanted?

Yes, she thought, clenching her fist until she felt her nails digging deep into her palms and a small trickle of blood. This world deserved it. She had suffered, agonised, been afraid, it was time for its retribution. She would be unaffected of course, she didn't draw her magic from within her body or from nature around her like normal sorcerers, or from an external source directly from the Old Religion, like Dragonlords. Her magic was...she didn't even know what it was. A 'tempest of raw magic' the prophecy had said, whatever that meant precisely. What she did know was that it meant her magic was incorruptible. The haven of the Isle of the Blessed would remain untouched she and Morgause would both be safe there from the horrors of the world outside. They alone would be immune...

So why was she so hesitant?

She shook her head roughly. She mustn't be so weak. Emrys was coming, and she had to be ready for him.

* * *

"What are you going to do Merlin?" Gehola pressed urgently. "That's the Prophesied One up there in that Castle! You can't just stroll in!"

Merlin's eyes were drawn up to the high tower before him and he shuddered at the thought of what lay within. Of who, lay within.

"I must. I know her after all."

Gehola's eyes went wide in amazement. "You _know_ her?" But when Merlin nodded gravely, his own face went gleeful.

"But that's great news! You won't have to prove your loyalty any more! She'll know you're on our side!"

Merlin sighed and shook his head.

"We didn't part on the best of terms. In fact, on more than one occasion we've tried to kill each other."

Gehola frowned. "The prophecies said the two of you would work together."

"Not exactly."

Gehola stared. "I don't understand Merlin. The two of you are supposed to help each other and to help us."

Merlin hesitated. "Gehola, what exactly have you been told that I'm trying to do?"

"Help us." Gehola answered without hesitation.

"Yes, but how?"

Gehola looked puzzled for only the briefest of moments. "To get us a new place to live, where the Dark Magic won't be as bad."

Merlin's heart sunk. How would he explain this to him?

"Gehola, I _am _trying to help you."

Gehola frowned. "But ..."

Merlin sighed and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. He looked Gehola in the eye.

"But … not in the way you think."

Gehola shook his head slightly and stepped back looking incredulous. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Merlin stepped forward and Gehola drew back. "I am trying to help you Gehola, but it's not like this. I don't want to help Hafela and the others, I'm trying to stop them."

Gehola looked angry. "You mean Wrecan was right? You _are _spying on us, trying to betray us?"

Merlin pleaded desperately. "You don't want the Wandrian to take over do you? You must see that this is a good thing."

Gehola scowled. "You never intended to help us did you? You were always working on Camelot's side!"

"Yes, but-"

"But nothing Merlin! Maybe Hafela and the other leaders are evil, but we're not all like that! There's plenty of us who've never touched Dark Magic and we're suffering too! Emrys was supposed to help us. You're not Emrys are you, you're trying to kill us all!"

"No!" Merlin shouted, appalled. "I would _never! _I'm trying to save you all from the Dark Magic! Hafela can't be allowed to succeed, he can't open the Portal. It'll mean doom for Camelot, for all kingdoms! Dark Magic will be everywhere! I have to stop that, can't you see?"

Gehola's expression slipped for a moment, and the anger faded. But his face then turned stony.

"And why are you trying to help Camelot? What's so special about there? Uther murdered hundreds of our kind!"

"I know," sighed Merlin. "But I'm not doing it for him. It's Arthur. It's my destiny to protect him as he becomes King, and I believe Camelot under him will be a better place."

Gehola scoffed. "And he knows your secret does he? He knows what you're doing for him?"

Merlin faltered, and Gehola looked triumphant.

"You see, you haven't told him. The truth is, he'd be just like his father. He'd hate you for it."

"Nevertheless I have to protect him," said Merlin firmly. "For the sake of Albion."

Gehola looked angry again. "How can you say that? After all his father has done."

"Arthur is not his father," said Merlin, his voice rising.

"Uther murdered my parents!" shouted Gehola.

"And he ordered my father to be executed as well!" said Merlin, just as loudly.

Gehola started, and the anger was gone from his features. He looked lost.

"I'm sorry, I never knew."

Merlin shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I have no love for Uther, in fact, I don't really care much about him. I only want him alive so as to not to thrust Arthur upon the throne until he's ready. Uther has done many horrible things, but should we condemn an entire kingdom to death and destruction at the hands of evil sorcerers because of a grudge? Camelot deserves better than that."

Gehola fell silent and stared at the ground. Merlin turned and stared into the dead forest, looking away from the silent village. His blood was pumping fiercely through his body, he could hear it rushing in his ears. He hadn't even realised how worked up he had gotten.

"Merlin?"

He turned.

Gehola stood there, looking as innocent as usual, no anger left in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin drew in a breath. "So am I. I deceived you, and I'm sorry for it. But know, that I really am trying to help you, help _all _of you. We need to be rid of Dark Magic."

Gehola nodded. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Then I'm with you, no matter how you have to accomplish this. You can count on me, Emrys."

Merlin's mouth twitched into a sardonic smile, and he turned his eyes to the castle dominating the skyline.

"Morgana is in there. She knows I'm loyal to Camelot. She knows I would never betray Arthur. She'll tell Hafela."

Gehola bit his lip. "How can we convince her otherwise?"

Merlin breathed in deeply.

"We can't."

And with that, he grabbed Hyre by the front of his robes and started dragging him towards the castle, where Morgana lay, waiting for him.

* * *

Morgana listened as the sound of footsteps down the corridor grew ever closer, but did not turn around.

The door swung open.

A ragged breathing and frenzied moaning greeted her ears.

She heard Hafela move towards the door.

"Ah, Emrys, you have returned. And with the prisoner we sent you to retrieve, I see. Isn't that interesting Wrecan?"

She heard Wrecan spit on the floor.

"It doesn't prove his loyalty Hafela."

"No," said a new voice. "What is does prove however is a willing propensity to place myself in a situation of inordinate danger. I doubt even I would presume as to be as stupid to return if my loyalties lay elsewhere."

Morgana felt an icy-cold feeling spread throughout her entire body. _She knew that voice_.

She span around, and there in front of her was a grinning, smug face which was far too familiar for her liking.

_Merlin._

* * *

**A/N: Not much major stuff going on, but I thought I'd get some Morgana character sketching in. Not entirely sure yet whether I'll make Morgana evil or not in this fic, it can go either way so … review and let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Some people were asking for clarification on the difference between Dark Magic and Old Religion and whether it can be corrupted or not. Here it is: **

**Sorcerers: Draw magic from within their bodies- means it can be corrupted.**

**Some Druids: Draw magic from nature itself for NON-DARK spells- cannot be corrupted**

**Normal people: No resilience to magic- can be corrupted**

**Dark Magic- Draws magic from nature like some Druids, but they use this magic for Dark purposes thereby converting the natural magic of the Old Religion to Dark Magic. Dark Magic cannot be used without drawing on nature. Land being ruined, because the magic of the Old Religion inherent in all living things is being converted. With the land being ruined, the magic of the Old Religion needed for Dark Magic to convert is being drawn from their bodies instead, making them all yucky. Nature no longer providing them with the magic they need. They need to open the Veil. The Veil will convert the Old Religion throughout the land to Dark Magic- they can then use this by drawing on this magic rather than converting the Old Religion magic and destroying the land and their own bodies.**

**Make sense? I hope so coz I'm starting to confuse myself.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17- Anger

**A/N: Okay. Just gonna leave out the profound apology for not updating in months. Life happened. But so did Merlin Series 4 which was EPIC and I only just got on DVD and I just couldn't get rid of the guilt of not finishing this story. So here it goes!  
**

* * *

_No, no, no … this could not be happening!_

Morgana stood stiller than she ever had in her life, staring at the man who had just entered the room, willing herself to see something other than what her eyes were telling her. It _couldn't _be.

Her mind raced. Her heart was in her throat. How could he be here?

Merlin just stood and watched her. His face was almost expressionless, aside from a slight quirk of his lips, which almost suggesting a sense of amusement. He regarded her coolly, calmly, without a hint of being surprised to see her there. She wished she could say the same.

What felt like hours passed as she just stared at him. It was _Merlin! _The servant! How could this be true?

Her eyes must be deceiving her.

Yet there he was.

This was the man who only a few weeks ago had hurt her sister, caused her insurmountable pain, who had foiled all her plans for taking over Camelot. She ought to feel angry, to lash out and hurt him. Yet all she felt was shock. And fear.

He was there, looking as he always did; tatty clothes, messy black hair, gangly limbs. But there was something different. The way he held himself, the way he looked at her; he exuded confidence. His face was a mask of cold indifference, with a hard look in his eyes that Merlin the idiot manservant had never possessed. He was the same man, but a world apart.

His eyes never left hers. He seemed to be gazing directly into her soul.

She felt an icy shudder pass through her body. Merlin had never looked at her like that. This wasn't Merlin. As ridiculous as it seemed, this was Emrys.

Her entire body felt numb. She willed herself to explode in anger, to strike him down. But she couldn't move.

A snuffling noise in a corner brought her to her senses. A huddled shape lay sprawled on the floor directly behind Merlin, moaning and whimpering.

Merlin wrenched his eyes away from hers and regarded the mass on the floor with a slight contempt.

He looked back up at her.

"I wouldn't look too closely my Lady. He isn't a sight pleasing for the eyes."

The sight of those eyes looking back into hers and speaking so calmly to her as though none of the last few years had happened ignited a fire within her she had not thought could be ignited.

She snapped.

She felt her magic flare up within her, roaring through her body more intensely than it ever had before, burning every inch of her being. She shook with the intensity of it as the fire rushed through her. She felt herself losing control …

'_Ānweald!' _she screamed; one of the words of power Morgause had taught her without any thought for herself. So furious was her anger she cared not whether her spell hit its mark, how much damage it would do, or what it would cost her. She poured every ounce of herself into the spell she could muster to assuage her burning ager, her guilt, her malice, her frustration.

A raging beam of light burst forth from her body and surged towards the object of her fury. The room glared with the ferocity of the spell, a blinding light engulfed the room.

And still Merlin stood there. As slowly as if time itself was functioning at a slower rate, Morgana saw him calmly raise a palm in her direction and utter a single word: '_Hilderan.'_

His eyes burned gold

A resounding crash sounded in the room, a sound like the striking of a gong reverberated throughout the room, and all was turned into a blazing inferno. The fiery light ricocheted away from where Merlin had stood and slammed into a wall sending a thundering avalanche of debris and dust down upon the room. Morgana felt herself being thrown off her feet with the force of the blast and collide with another wall, where she crumpled into a heap on the floor, winded, and coughing up dust.

She felt a dull ringing in her head, and an exhaustion seep through her entire body, which shook uncontrollably. Her robes and hair were singed, and she gave a great wracking cough.

She glanced up, straining her eyes to see through the dust. The Wandrian had been thrown to the floor alongside her and were slowly regaining their feet. But she only had eyes for one person.

And there he stood, calmly among the debris, unscathed. He didn't look out of breath, or angry, or _anything. _He just stood there, seemingly unconcerned with the devastation around him. Cold as ice.

Morgana's breath quickened and her heart raced as she looked up at the man she no longer recognised.

"Who are you?" she gasped.

Merlin smiled. "I am Emrys."

A cold light flickered in his eyes. Morgana couldn't take her eyes off them. Had she really just seen them turn gold?

She clambered to her feet. Merlin/Emrys watched her, unconcerned.

"WHAT in the name of the seven hells is going on here?" screamed one of the Wandrian, the younger one who's name Morgana hadn't cared to learn.

Merlin turned to look at him, his glare cold and unfeeling.

"The Lady Morgana and I have, well, we've met before."

Morgana felt that insurmountable rage again, but found herself too weak to do much more than glare.

"And it will be the last!" Morgana raged, trying, willing herself to be able to control the magic within her to lash out at him.

Merlin surveyed her with a trace of amusement.

"Like your pathetic magic would have any affect upon my own."

Morgana shook in anger. How dare he? How _dare_ he!

Merlin smiled at her again, that infuriating smug smile. Morgana could not believe what was happening. Merlin was a sorcerer. _Merlin!_ He was _Emrys! _He was _powerful; _he'd just deflected the full extent of her power without so much as batting an eyelid! This was impossible!

Hafela approached the two of them, malice glinting in his pitch black eyes.

"It is evident much ill-will exists between the two of you. This is unacceptable. The two of you are needed for our plans to succeed. Whatever resentment you bear for each other I suggest you resolve it now."

Morgana wheeled around to face him incredulous.

"Resolve it! You have no idea what he's done, what he _is!_ He's caused me suffering beyond compare! He wants me dead! He is no friend of sorcerers or of the Wandrian. He's loyal to _Arthur_!"

"I knew it!" the younger Elder shrieked gleefully turning his maniacal eyes on Merlin. "I knew he was a traitor to our kind! I knew he was on Arthur's side!"

Merlin met his glare with one equally as menacing. "Is that why I've been feeding you information leading directly to Arthur for the last month? Use whatever rotten mass you call a brain Wrecan!"

Wrecan seemed to simmer with anger. Morgana reeled. Merlin's been feeding them information? Impossible!

"It's a trick!" she yelled. "Arthur sent him here! Merlin would never betray his precious prince! He's under orders!"

Merlin laughed without humour. "And do you think he ordered this as well, _my lady?_"

His eyes flashed once more, and tiny flames sprung up in his hands, and spread up his arms, licking harmlessly at skin and cloth. He laughed again, and the flames were extinguished.

He fixed her with an intense stare. "You think you're the only one who's suffered? The only one who's had to live like a shadow? No, Morgana. I've been hiding who I am all my life. No longer will I hide away my true ability like a frightened child."

Morgana found herself speechless. Merlin's magic, his confession … was this really happening?

She shook herself, and angrily retorted:

"Then why have you all these years? Why pretend to be Arthur's loyal servant? Why did you put up with it? Why have you tried so hard all these years to protect him?"

Merlin blinked.

"Because it suited me." he stated simply.

"And why have you changed your mind now?" she asked.

"Because it no longer suits me."

Morgana just stared at him. Merlin stared back in equanimity. He didn't look ashamed or afraid. Just honest. For the first time since Morgana had known Merlin, or thought she'd known him, she felt as though she was truly seeing him. He'd always held something back; she'd known that-it was plain for anyone to see. And now Morgana knew what it was.

Morgana took a shaky step backwards, and felt her anger drain away as she took in the situation, this ridiculous crazy situation. How?

The oldest Wandrian member, Gamol she thought his name was, stepped forward looking almost bored.

"A strange turn of events undoubtedly; we are witnessing prophecy as it is fulfilled; Morgana and Emrys, both born of the Old Religion, but both so different. Both so unique, one of a kind- there is much here that must be accomplished."

Morgana glared at him. "Well, it won't be accomplished with me."

Gamol looked at her sombrely. "You have no choice Morgana. Your destinies are entwined. You cannot separate now."

"Watch me!" spat Morgana and she turned on her heel to storm out of the ruined room, when she felt some external force dragging her back against her will. She struggled but it was futile; she felt her arm being grabbed from behind and her body being spun around until she was virtually nose-to-nose with Merlin.

The proximity startled her and she tried to move away but Merlin held her tight both physically and magically.

"Let go of me!" she insisted.

Merlin only smiled. "Not until you agree to stay."

Morgana spat in his face: "You cannot make me!"

Merlin laughed. "Perhaps you will make yourself Morgana. We have a common goal after all; the destruction of Camelot."

Morgana began to struggle less. "And how am I supposed to trust you?"

"You're not. Just know we both want the same things."

He released her, but Morgana didn't move away.

"And why do you want that?" she asked, no longer angry.

Merlin frowned. "Because, I have suffered under Uther's laws. I have watched many innocents put to the sword because of his decrees and have felt its affects myself. But instead of _someone_ I could mention, I didn't hide myself away crying over my misfortunes in life and lamenting the cruelty of the world. _I _didn't run off with the first stranger who came along. I took control of my own destiny. I know what I need to do. And to do that I need you and you need me."

Morgana breathed deeply. "You hurt her. You hurt me."

Merlin blinked, and for once Morgana thought she saw the tiniest flicker of pain in his eyes, before once again they were cold and emotionless.

"If I remember correctly the two of you were not entirely innocent of trying to hurt me either."

Morgana reached up and slapped him hard across the face.

He flinched as the blow struck, but he made no attempt to avoid it, or to retaliate. His head had been thrown to the side when she slapped him, and he brought it back again to face her.

"We have an agreement then?"

Morgana fumed, her chest rising and falling in great ragged breaths as a hateful anger flowed through her. She hated him. She _hated_ him. He'd lied to her, deceived her, manipulated her …

The absurdity of the situation hit her more than ever. Merlin was Emrys. He was trying to bring down Camelot.

Or was he?

Was all this a ruse? Was he spying for Arthur? Was he actually trying to help Camelot?

But he was still a sorcerer. Why would a sorcerer willingly want to protect Arthur? Was Merlin's reasoning actually reliable? It was impossible to tell. The notion of Merlin wanting to betray Camelot was almost as ridiculous as the notion of Merlin being a sorcerer. She didn't know which to place her faith in.

She looked at him closely. She would find out. She _would _know his true motives. '_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer._' It was one of the few things her father had taught her that she still held to.

She stepped closer to Emrys. "I don't trust you. I hate you. I don't care if you live or die." she paused. "But as long as you want Camelot destroyed, I will help you."

Emrys smiled back at her, and Morgana felt the hatred writhing inside her belly, wanting nothing more than to just lash out at him. But she held it back. Now wasn't the time. She had to play it to her advantage. She would repress the seething rage she felt for him as long as it was to her benefit, but as soon as she no longer needed him …

She smirked. Let him have his victory now. He may think he'd won her over, but she would wait. She would have her revenge for Morgause, for all those years she suffered at Camelot when he could have helped.

Camelot would fall. And so would the legendary Emrys. 

* * *

Merlin kept his eyes fixed solely on her face, unflinching. She smirked at him.

"So be it." she said softly, and stepped back, a simmering hatred in her eyes. But at least she wasn't throwing fireballs at him anymore. Repelling that last one had taken a lot out of him, and required a great deal of effort to try and act unaffected.

In fact, everything that had happened since he walked into the room had been an act. Acting cold and heartless was hard enough with the Wandrian, but to do it with Morgana … it was harder than he expected. Every time he looked at her, pain pierced his heart. What had happened to the pure good woman he had once known? Was there anything left of her? Perhaps Kilgarrah was right; she was beyond hope.

It certainly seemed that way every time she looked into his eyes. All he saw was hate, anger and betrayal. And it made him feel more guilty than he could have ever imagined. He had turned her to this.

Was it still worthwhile trying to save her?

She backed away from him, and turned away, gazing out over the valley through the window, now enlarged to cover the entire wall thanks to Merlin's awry shield spell blasting through it. He wanted nothing more to pull her back, to tell her the truth, offer her the explanation he should have offered when she first came to him terrified of what was happening to her. What would have happened if he had confided in her then?

Darkness rushed up inside him and he felt his thoughts being clouded by the now familiar crushing sensation caused by the Dark Magic. He felt drained. He slipped his hand into his pocket and touched the dragon tooth inside, but even that offered little comfort. It wasn't the Dark Magic that what affecting him at this present moment …

He shook himself slightly, disturbed, and turned to face the three Wandrian Elders. Hafela was watching him closely, Gamol seemed uninterested, and Wrecan glared at him with his usual malice.

Had they bought his deception?

Merlin cleared his throat, which he only just noticed was parched. "If that is all then, I must be going back to Camelot. My absence will not go unnoticed for long."

Hafela nodded slowly. "Do what you must Emrys. You did well in returning Hyre to us."

Wrecan scoffed. "What use is Hyre?" He looked pointedly at the Dark sorcerer lying on the ground, moaning. "He means nothing to us."

"Nevertheless, Emrys risked a great deal to bring him here," Hafela said, louder. "And if anything it proves his loyalty more. We suspected he was betraying us. Why then would he return if not to prove himself?"

Wrecan scowled. "Perhaps he thinks he can deceive us like he deceives his prince."

"Emrys would not dare," Hafela said softly, his eyes glinting. "We are not as ignorant as he. We are not so easily tricked. Emrys knows this. He knows what we should do if he proves false."

Merlin did not miss the threat in his words.

He nodded, and inclined his head slightly to each of the Elders, even Wrecan, and turned to face Morgana's back.

"By your leave, my lady."

Morgana did not reply, nor give any indication she had heard him. Merlin had expected as much. He knew their problems were only just beginning.

He turned to leave, and that's when he heard a great shuddering gasp, and a sigh.

Hyre lay still on the cold floor, no longer weeping or moaning.

Hafela moved slowly towards him, who had once been his friend. He looked coldly down at the body.

"So passes Hyre, blessed with the Noble Art. May our strength last longer than his."

Merlin stood frozen, looking at Hafela. Such cold hostility … he looked at Morgana once more. _May the gods help her_, he thought as he left the room.

What felt like an age later, Merlin approached Camelot through the woods. The Warning Bell was still ringing and soldiers raced here and there on the battlements, lighting watch fires and calling to one another. Patrols issued out from the front gates.

Merlin uttered a swift spell of invisibility, then stepped out in full view of the city and entered through the gates, avoiding the frantic activity of the Knights. He walked quickly, despite his weariness, not slowing until he had almost left the lower town. He ducked behind a loaded wagon, and removed the spell. He stepped out once more and headed off down the street.

He could still hear the clamour going on as they searched for the missing prisoner. When would they learn, wondered Merlin. A proper sorcerer wasn't as easy to catch as they might think. Hadn't Merlin just proven how remarkably easy it was?

It depressed him slightly, knowing how truly ill-prepared Camelot was for a real magical attack. They would stand no chance against the Wandrian.

Merlin racked his brains as he walked. He needed to find a way to prepare the city without Arthur or the Wandrian finding out. But how to do it? As much as he despised the Wandrian, at least with them he didn't have to hide his magic, which made everything easier. Then again, he spent as much time lying to them as he did to Arthur. Would he never be truly free to just be himself? Wherever he went, whether they knew about his magic or not, he was always concealing something, there was nowhere he could really be his own person.

There must be something in the old books in the Court libraries about defending somewhere against Dark Magic. There must be. Everything in life had its opposite, nothing could be truly invincible. But how to implement whatever needed to be done without anyone finding out? And there were the grain supplies to consider; he had to renew them again before the people starved, again without Arthur finding out. He had to find some way of giving information to Arthur about the Wandrian. He had to turn the favour on the side of Camelot, without the Wandrian finding out …

Merlin stopped and leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. He had never felt more exhausted in his life. Why was everything so complicated? And now Morgana …

Merlin screwed up his face as he thought of her. What was he going to do?

"Merlin?"

Merlin's head shot up, and he saw Gwen hurrying down the street towards him.

"Oh Merlin! What are you doing out here? You don't look at all well!"

Merlin forced a laugh. "I'm fine Gwen!" He tried to grin, but Gwen didn't look convinced.

"Thank goodness I was looking out my window at the right time! What are you doing out during the curfew, especially when there's been an escaped prisoner? Elyan stopped by and told me you hadn't been well and Gaius had been looking after you."

Merlin nodded and tried to look natural.

"Yeah, I was. But all this racket woke me up and I just needed some fresh air."

Gwen nodded and looked thoughtful, turning her head towards the lower town.

"Elyan told me the prisoner was just an ordinary thief. But why would they be so concerned if it was? Why all this fuss? I heard someone from the lower town screaming about something to do with Emrys' name appearing in flame."

Merlin tried to shrug it off, cursing his own ridiculous stunt. "People will jump to any sort of conclusions. It's probably nothing. You know Arthur; he takes every escape as a personal injury to his ego."

Gwen bit her lip. "Perhaps you're right."

Merlin grinned. "Of course I'm right."

Gwen's expression softened slightly. "You should head back to Gaius' Merlin. There's something going on, something not right."

_Damn, her intuitiveness._ "Yeah, I'll just go then shall I?"

And he turned and made for home as quickly as he could without looking suspicious. Was everyone going to start seeing right through him? At this rate the only ones he was fooling were the Wandrian, and Merlin hated that thought.

He arrived outside his chambers, and pushed open the door, dreading whatever reprimand Gaius had in store for him. But the rooms were empty of Gaius; perhaps he was tending to the king?

Relieved, Merlin headed straight for his own bedroom, willing to just collapse on his bed and sleep for days when-

"Merlin."

Merlin wheeled around to find Gwaine and Lancelot both facing him, their faces grim.

Merlin groaned. He was _not_ in the mood for this.

"Can't this wait till the morning?"

"No Merlin it _can't._" Gwaine spoke, and Merlin was surprised to hear a steely note of anger in his voice. "Tell us, what the _hell _were you thinking?"

Merlin looked from one to the other, and sighed, resigning himself to a night of interrogation. He had forgotten Gwaine had seen him escaping with Gehola and Hyre.

"Emrys sent for me. He asked me to help him break Hyre out of the dungeons. I had to keep my cover."

Gwaine shook his head. "Hyre? That was his name? You're getting awfully familiar with them Merlin."

Merlin frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means Merlin," said Lancelot, "that we're worried about how deep you're involving yourself in this."

Merlin sighed. "It's not like that! Hyre was a crazy, ruined man; he's not a threat to anybody!"

Gwaine blinked. "You're defending him? I spoke to him Merlin; there was not a single shred of goodness in whatever heart he had in him."

"I'm not saying there was. He was twisted Gwaine, driven mad by the darkness. Having him free was hardly a threat."

"And how do you know that? How do you know he won't start killing innocent people Merlin?"

"Because he's dead." Merlin said shortly.

Lancelot and Gwaine looked taken aback. "You mean you-"

"No," interrupted Merlin. "The Transportation Spell caused havoc with his body, it was that fragile. He died almost as soon as we arrived back."

Gwaine and Lancelot exchanged a glance. Lancelot spoke: "Well, at least that is some good news. He was a terrible human being."

Merlin said nothing. Hyre had only been thus because of the Dark Magic, he had once had a life of his own. If Merlin succumbed to the darkness, would the same happen to him?

"When you say 'back', Merlin," asked Gwaine, "where exactly do you mean?"

Merlin looked up at them. "I don't think I should-"

"Come off it Merlin," said Gwaine. "Don't think you can keep us in the dark much longer."

Merlin sighed. He felt too weary to argue. What difference would it make if he told them a few things?

"I mean, in the realm of the Wandrian."

"And where is that?" Gwaine asked eagerly, apparently spurred on by Merlin's sudden enthusiasm for sharing.

"I don't know, it can only be reached by magic."

Gwaine frowned. "The prisoner said as much. But you must have a way of getting in and out Merlin?"

Merlin shared the briefest of glances with Lancelot before continuing. "I don't. Emrys summons me, and I meet him in the woods somewhere. Then he takes us both to their realm. I couldn't find it if I tried."

Gwaine fell back disappointed. "The prisoner told me some things about their land. It's badly ruined isn't it?"

Merlin smiled grimly. "You have no idea. The entire place is dead. There's a castle there which is one of their 'focal points'. It's awful trying to go near it. But that's where the Elders meet, so it's where I have to go."

"Tell us about the Elders," Gwaine pressed.

"Hafela is the leader. He's … cruel, beyond all imagining. He's grotesque, and powerful. And sane too, mostly, and sanity isn't something that's common among them. Gamol is the oldest. He resents Hafela for being leader, but apart from that he's not much trouble. He's just as cruel, but shows it less if you know what I mean. Wrecan now, he's evil. He hates me. Doesn't trust me."

Lancelot and Gwaine looked at each other.

"This is the one who had the run in with Balinor?"

Merlin frowned. "What?"

"You don't know?" asked Gwaine. "The prisoner told me one of the Elders had a great big scar across his face because of some altercation with Balinor."

Merlin sat down, momentarily overwhelmed.

"_Of course! _That's why he hates me!"

"You'd best be careful Merlin," cautioned Lancelot. "You don't want to make an enemy of him."

Merlin laughed hollowly. "Too late for that. And trust me, I'll avoid him as much as humanely poss … hang on; since when have you known who my father is?"

Merlin looked from one to the other, satisfied to see they both looked sheepish.

"Never mind," huffed Merlin. "I suppose I deserve having stuff withheld from me with everything I'm putting you through."

Looking relieved, Gwaine pressed forward: "Now tell us about Emrys. I saw him you know."

Merlin froze, and almost panicked. A warning glance from Lancelot stopped him from reacting. Gwaine saw Emrys? But he wasn't angry with Merlin? But why …

Merlin inwardly groaned. He'd seen _Gehola_. Of course! Gehola was the one who had cast the Transportation Spell to get them away from Camelot. Great, now Gehola was in even greater danger. Still, at least Merlin's identity was safe for a little while longer.

"Oh?" said Merlin, trying to sound mildly interested. "And what did you make of him?"

Gwaine frowned. "That's what confused me. He was young, much younger than I thought he would be. And the prisoner said he was the spy in the Royal Court, but I've never seen him before!"

Merlin's mind raced. _Think of some convincing lie!_

"You mean … you haven't seen his _true _from before." said Merlin, inventing wildly. "He can change his form. It's how he stays hidden. He changes around every day, so no one notices. Even I don't know half the time who it is. One day he could be impersonating a cook, the next a lady-in-waiting. I only ever see him in his true form."

Gwaine sighed, but he seemed to have bought it. "Then we can trust absolutely no one. He could be _anybody_!"

Merlin nodded. "Exactly."

Gwaine exhaled, and paced up and down. "How are we ever to fight this man?"

_Preferably not too hard_, Merlin thought inwardly.

Gwaine turned to look at him. "Why does he need you then? If he's already situated at Court?"

_Damn. _"Because … he can only impersonate the more anonymous people in Court, so people don't realise. He needs me to get information from Arthur. Arthur may be dense, but if Emrys tried to impersonate me Arthur'd be able to tell easily."

Gwaine nodded, evidently satisfied.

He paced for a few more minutes, before turning to face Merlin once more.

"Do you know anything about a Portal Merlin?"

Merlin shuddered involuntarily.

"I take that as a yes then," Gwaine said, moving closer. "The prisoner mentioned it, but he refused to say more."

Merlin cast a quick look at Lancelot.

"It's bad. I'm not sure exactly how bad. But, I know if it's opened, it's basically the end for us. It's got something to do with Dark Magic, if it's opened, all evil will be set free. Or so I've heard," he added hastily.

"And how could this Portal be opened?" asked Gwaine, looking apprehensive at the answer.

Merlin thought about remaining silent. But he couldn't. He couldn't keep so many secrets.

"They believe Morgana will be able to open it."

Lancelot started. "Then we have to stop her. We have to find her before the Wandrian do."

Merlin shook his head, hating what he had to tell them.

"It's too late. She's already joined them."

Merlin didn't have to see their horror-struck faces to appreciate the severity of what he had just said. Morgana, the one person able to open the Portal, had joined with the Wandrian. And Merlin had agreed to help her.

If the prophecies were true, and Merlin truly was the only one who could bring her back from the darkness … he had a lot of work to do.

But he had to do it. Not just for his sake, or for Morgana's, but for all of Camelot. 

* * *

**A/N: This was hard! And I'm still not satisfied! Don't worry folks, there'll be plenty more Merlin and Morgana interaction coming! There's so much to do with these two I'd spill over onto three chapters trying to do it all at once! I hope the whole confrontation wasn't over with too quickly or seemed too easily resolved. Much more to come!**

**As always, reviews make me happy!:)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: ****Hope you enjoy! My updates are irregular I know, but I'm doing exams at the moment, but after they're done I'll have weeks with nothing to do. Hopefully then I can start to really get this story completed!**

* * *

**Chapter 18- Lost**

Arthur rode wildly through the woods, his mind racing, a severe headache threatening. Dawn was just beginning to rise and he'd been riding for hours, since he'd dismissed the knights after the news of the escaped prisoner had broken.

He knew deep down this relentless pursuit was in vain, as it was for every other time they'd tried to capture a sorcerer, but being out here in the woods actively doing something felt much better than sitting idly back in Camelot. The prisoner hadn't been led away on foot, he knew that, Emrys and the mysterious third man had taken him away using magic, so what was the point?

He came to the edge of the forest suddenly, and looked out upon the plains of Camelot, sleepy little villages just waking to the light of the tired sun creeping over the horizon.

He turned back to his men, and noted that all of them looked as exhausted as he felt. Some were barely managing to sit astride their horses without falling. Yet, true to the undying loyalty of his knights, they did not complain.

He sighed; it would do him no good at all to lead his men onto the point of collapse on what was essentially a hopeless case.

He wheeled his horse around and instructed his men to return to the city, trying to quell the growing disappointment that grew ever higher within him. He felt so helpless. His kingdom was being attacked by enemies from outside and within the walls of the city and he was powerless to prevent or even to fight it. More than ever he felt the heavy burden on his shoulders that had been left there when his father had succumbed to his paralytic state. He was his people's only hope now. If only he had more hope to give them.

Questions buzzed in his mind, questions that had no foreseeable answers and problems without solutions. Who was this third man with Emrys and the prisoner? Was he another spy? A member of the Wandrian who had accompanied Emrys? Was he also another enemy within the city walls?

How had Emrys learned of the prisoner? Only his most trusted friends knew. Was Emrys so great a sorcerer he could discern things no mortal man could? Emrys _couldn't _be one of his knights.

Then there was Percival's theory; that Merlin was involved. Could Merlin have been that third man? Arthur rubbed his forehead, thinking about this made his very brain hurt.

Was Percival right; was Merlin being forced into helping the Wandrian? Arthur couldn't believe Merlin would voluntarily consent to help them, so that only left the prospect of blackmail. Merlin _was_ the sort of person who'd do anything to help people who were being threatened, but did this extend to spying on his own city?

But Camelot _wasn't_ his own city. Arthur frowned as he remembered. Merlin had been born and raised in Cenred's land; he'd lived there much longer than in Camelot. Magic wasn't forbidden in Ealdor. Arthur had always assumed Merlin had the same views on magic that he himself had, but what if this wasn't the case? Perhaps living in a society that tolerated magic had softened his views towards it. Arthur went cold as he remembered; Merlin's best friend Will had been a sorcerer. Why would Merlin have been friends with him if he didn't think magic was something that had merit? Had Merlin possibly dabbled in magic with Will as a child?

Once there was a time Arthur would have refused to consider the idea, now however …

Arthur admitted to himself, his views on magic hadn't always been so firm. His views were so vague he wasn't himself sure of what he thought of it. Whether magic was pure evil, or just the people who used it.

His headache was getting worse.

Merlin had been acting strange lately, ever since the first mentions of the Wandrian and Emrys. Was this the reason? Had Merlin already encountered these magic users before?

Arthur shook himself roughly. No. This wasn't like the magic that could feasibly be considered acceptable and harmless, this was Dark Magic, it _was_ pure evil. Merlin, or Will for that matter, could never have gotten involved with something like that! Besides, he reminded himself, Merlin hadn't known about the prisoner in the dungeons.

Unless Emrys had summoned him after he himself had found out and required his assistance. Merlin after all knew all the nooks and crannies of the palace inside out, he'd even helped Arthur break Mordred out of the dungeons once! Merlin was the personal servant of the man who was essentially ruling the kingdom, if Emrys was using him in any way …

He didn't even want to consider the possibility, yet a sick feeling crept into his stomach nonetheless. He couldn't ignore this. The other knights seemed to have no doubt Merlin was innocent, and Arthur wanted nothing more than to believe them, but he couldn't blindly walk into this. He knew Merlin would never betray him willingly, but something was definitively up, and he had to find that out from Merlin himself before it was too late.

A few hours later, the sun had finally risen, and Arthur and his contingent of knights galloped into the city, their hearts heavy. Servants rushed out to grab hold of their horses and lead them away to the stables. Arthur caught a glimpse of Merlin leading two mares away. He looked exhausted, and careworn. Arthur stared at him, willing himself to see what was really going on in the mind of his servant. To see beyond the barriers that Merlin constantly had around himself.

Arthur had shared many important and personal matters with Merlin over the years, things he'd never shared with anybody else, yet, he only just realised, Merlin had rarely done the same. It was always about _him_, about Arthur's fears, Arthur's worries. It suddenly struck him that Arthur knew very little about his manservant, his own personal problems and thoughts were always buried deep, concealing something greater that Arthur had never even attempted at uncovering before. Did he really know Merlin as well as he thought?

He climbed wearily up the steps into the palace intending to head straight to his chambers and not to emerge until noon the next day. He passed Lancelot and Gwaine having a hurried discussion in undertones looking grimly serious. Arthur didn't even have to wonder about what they were discussing.

That was another matter. Gwaine and Lancelot had all of a sudden become much closer. They too were hiding something, was it something about Merlin? Lancelot had assured Arthur he'd look out for Merlin, and help him in any way they could, but how far was he going? He said he'd tell Arthur if anything got really serious, but Arthur wondered whether his loyalty to Merlin was greater than his loyal to Arthur.

He trailed through the castle to his chambers and collapsed onto his bed, screwing his face up against a pillow, trying to block everything out. He wished more than anything the responsibility of protecting the kingdom rested on someone else, _anyone _else.

_Father, _he thought. _Please, help me. I can't do this without your help!_

* * *

Merlin strode out of the stables, weariness weighing down his entire frame. When was the last time he'd had a decent sleep? He could barely remember. And now it looked like he was never going to get one. He may as well resign himself to the fact; either the Wandrian would kill him, or the stress of keeping all these secrets would.

He saw Arthur heading up the palace steps, looking almost as tired as he did. He was most likely off for a long, _long _sleep. How Merlin wished he could do the same. But he had work to do.

He made off for his chambers. He needed to do as much research as possible if he wanted to deceive the Wandrian and protect Camelot. He needed to find out more about this veil, and about Dark Magic in general.

He pushed open the door and stopped as he saw Gaius sitting at the table, pausing in his work. Gaius cast him one sad look and went back to his work.

If it was possible, Merlin felt even worse, far worse than if Gaius had shouted at him. He'd been so cold and distant from Gaius, ignoring all his warnings and pleadings. Gaius didn't deserve this. How much pain was he inflicting upon the people closest to him? He'd been so wrapped up in everything he'd barely even given Gaius a second thought, the man who'd been a father in all but blood to him.

Merlin sat heavily down at the table. Gaius stared resolutely down at his work. Merlin felt his airways begin to constrict and a feeling of shame seep through him. How foolish was he to think he could ever accomplish this on his own? What chance did he really have without the support and help of those he cared about?

'Gaius?' said Merlin, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Gaius inclined his head to indicate he'd heard.

Merlin felt the emotion spilling out of him, a torrent of everything he'd been attempting to bury deep within himself the last few weeks. The confusion, the fear, the dread … the burden of the knowledge of what the Wandrian were attempting to accomplish and that he was the only one able to prevent it, layered on top of everything caused by Morgana's latest reappearance … it came flooding forward.

'Gaius, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything. You're right, I can't do this.' His voice broke and he looked down at his hands, realising his eyes were beginning to moisten.

Gaius looked at him for one instant, his face the epitome of anguish and concern. Then the next moment he was at Merlin's side, his hands on his shoulders.

'You never have to apologise to me Merlin. There is no situation conceivable where I would ever think any less of you, or care about you less.'

Merlin screwed up his eyes in frustration.

'I don't deserve this Gaius. I've acted horribly.'

Gaius shook his head. 'What you deserve Merlin, is someone who cares about you unconditionally. And I'll never abandon you Merlin.'

Merlin smiled ruefully. 'You really should.'

Gaius laughed wryly. 'Perhaps, my life expectancy would significantly increase if I didn't spend so much time worrying about you.'

He was silent a moment longer. 'You're wrong you know.'

Merlin frowned. 'About what?'

'That you can't do this.' Gaius stated simply.

Merlin turned to face him full on, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard.

'What?'

Gaius sighed, and fidgeted a couple of moments. 'I've been thinking, and thinking hard. I may not have agreed with your methods Merlin, but I've come to realise, you really _are_ the only one who can do this. I can't stop you. All I can do is help you where I can, and trust in your instincts.'

Merlin stared at him open-mouthed, a funny feeling growing and swelling inside him. He could never have expected this. He didn't deserve it, he knew that. He was acting foolishly, out of his depth with no idea what to do. And here was Gaius, telling him he trusted him to do the right thing. There was so much he wanted to express, so much he wanted to say. Instead he just said:

'About bloody time Gaius, I need all the help I can get.'

Gaius laughed and squeezed Merlin's arm, knowing everything Merlin had wanted to say, a silent understanding passing between them. Merlin felt a weight lift. He was no longer completely alone, he didn't need to be. Gaius, Lancelot, even Gwaine to an extent. They were all there, willing to help him, support him. That was how he was going to win. That was how he was going to defeat the Wandrian. _They_ were alone. He was not.

They remained like that for what seemed like several minutes before Merlin sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

'Well, since you've so graciously volunteered, we've got things to do.'

Gaius smiled and sat himself back down at the table.

'What sort of things?'

Merlin took a readying breath. Now was the time to share some of his burdens: he didn't have to do all of this on his own.

'I need books. Lots of them. I need to find out more about Dark Magic, and how to defeat it.'

Gaius frowned. 'That is no easy task. There isn't much written about such things.'

'There must be something,' Merlin sighed. 'Maybe in the library at court?'

Gaius shook his head. 'If there was, Geoffrey would have found it.'

Merlin considered this for a moment. That was true; Geoffrey was meticulous in his research for Arthur. Unless-

'There was stuff written in one of the old books he was reading written in a different language,' Merlin realised. 'I sneaked in one night and I was able to read it but he couldn't. There must be other books written in that language; the language of the Old Religion. No one who wasn't a sorcerer would be able to read it. If the information was in _those_ books, of course Geoffrey wouldn't have found it.'

Gaius thought for a moment. 'Perhaps. The language of the Old Religion was once common in these lands, but not many, even amongst sorcerers still use it.'

'But you know it Gaius,' Merlin pressed. 'You taught me. You could find the information.'

He was looking desperately at Gaius now, willing him to help. Gaius surveyed him closely.

'Yes I could.' He was silent for a moment. 'Geoffrey must be frustrated at not being able to read the language. He could use a little help translating it.'

Merlin brightened up. 'So you'll help?'

'I said I would, didn't I?' Gaius asked. 'But you must realise, any information I uncover must be shared with Arthur as well as with you.'

Merlin nodded. 'I know. Perhaps it's better like that. Arthur will trust anything you say, and this way he'll be better informed about what he's up against. I think he's getting suspicious of me, I know Percival is. If the information comes from you, he won't think anything of it. And the Wandrian won't be able to accuse me of feeding Arthur information; they know there's records of magic kept in Camelot. I wonder why Uther didn't have all of it destroyed during the Purge.'

Gaius sighed heavily. 'For the same reason we want this information now; it's useful to know your enemy.' His face broke into an expression of concern. 'You are being careful aren't you Merlin? If Arthur _and_ the Wandrian are beginning to suspect …'

Merlin fixed him with a level look. 'It's what I must do Gaius. I know that more than anything. I have to do this.'

Gaius nodded resignedly. 'I will do my utmost to protect you Merlin. I doubt there's much Camelot can do to defend itself against Dark Magic, but I'll certainly look into it.'

Merlin smiled. 'That's what I'm here for isn't it? Just find out what you can. The Dark Magic isn't affecting me as much as it was, but I still need to know as much about it as possible. And so does Arthur,' he added. 'It's time I started feeding him information as well as the information I'm giving the Wandrian. It's no good just continuing to protect Camelot like I have been; I need to give them the upper hand on their own ground.'

Gaius nodded, and began to clear away his equipment. 'I'll get started as soon as I can then.'

Merlin stood up and stretched feeling weary beyond all measure. If Arthur was away for a sleep, Gaius away to find some information, the grain supplies restocked … he might as well have some rest himself. He couldn't afford to be tired now; there was so much at stake.

Gaius began to leave but Merlin, struck by a sudden thought called him back.

'Gaius? Could you find out some more about … the prophecies of Emrys?'

Gaius turned and looked at him. 'Of course, but why?'

Merlin suddenly felt uncomfortable. 'It's just, there's so much riding on me, I need to know everything. And, there's Morgana.'

Gaius blanched. 'Morgana?'

'Yes. She's allied with the Wandrian. She's supposed to open the Portal.' Merlin could tell by the look on Gaius' face he knew what that was. 'One of the prophecies I read mentioned that she can be saved, and I need to know more. I just … I can't see her every day with those _people_ and not know whether or not she has a chance of redemption. I can't bear to think … she's _that_ evil. She's _that_ beyond reason.'

Gaius sent him a look of understanding. 'I will find out what I can Merlin. But don't raise your hopes. It may be too late for Morgana. But we'd better pray it is not. If the Portal is opened … Dark Magic will consume all.'

He ended on that grim note, and turned and left the room. Merlin stood watching the spot he had just vacated with a sense of growing anticipation. He _had _to try and help her. If she was beyond saving and still tried to open the Portal … he dreaded to think what he might have to do to her. He didn't think he could stand another attempt on her life.

He sighed, feeling the weight sink down on him. Dark Magic, he hated it. He hated everything to do with it. It was repulsive. The Wandrian were intent on converting him to their 'Noble Art', despite what they had said at the beginning, he knew they were getting frustrated that he wasn't succumbing to its allure.

But he was intent on resisting it, the dragon's tooth he kept as a talisman guarded him against it with the pure power of the Old Religion. He thought of Gehola, how he too was somehow resilient to the Dark Magic, of the tree that seemed to give him protection.

He frowned. He'd forgotten about that. In the Forest of No Life, ruined by the destruction caused by the Dark Magic, a single tree flourished, why? It must be of the Old Religion, one of those ancient oaks revered by the priests as being pure and strong in its magic. But how did Gehola guard himself using the magic of this tree when none of the other wretched inhabitants of the village could not. Why did only he feel its benefits?

And what was this strange feeling he had about Gehola. He'd picked up magic Merlin had shown him incredibly quickly, he performed the intricately difficult Transportation spell without batting an eyelid, he'd even helped Merlin by offering magical advice when he'd been performing a spell he'd been practising all his life! There was something strange about him.

But Merlin didn't want to think of that at the moment. Knowing Arthur, he'd be awake soon and demanding he perform all manner of back-breaking chores before noon. He should get some rest while he could. He was going to have his work cut out over the next few days contending with the Wandrian, Arthur and Morgana all at once.

* * *

Gaius hurried through the corridors of Camelot as fast as his aged body would allow. This was of vital importance. Merlin had finally allowed him to help, and he couldn't let him down. It pained Gaius that he couldn't protect Merlin as he wished too, that he was too old and frail, with weak magic. But although he may be useless in a fight against the Wandrian, there were some things he _could _do, and he was going to do them to the best of his ability.

He reached the entrance to the court library and pushed open the heavy door. He walked down the aisles of musty books, a deafening silence in the air. There was something forbidding about the place, he could almost sense the books themselves, a living energy emanating from their ancient pages.

He found Geoffrey at his desk, asleep with his head resting on an ancient volume of the court records. He paused for a moment. Should he wake him?

His dilemma was solved for him. As though he could sense Gaius' presence there amongst his precious books, Geoffrey suddenly started awake. He peered up at Gaius, his eyes drooping.

'Gaius?'

He smiled. 'Hello old friend. You look exhausted.'

Geoffrey sighed heavily. 'I am. I'm far too old for this sort of thing. Night after night I've been in here, and I can't find a single thing. None of the old court records within the last two hundred years make mention of the Wandrian or even of Dark Magic, and the ones before that are written in a language I do not understand, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot find a translation, or even a source for what language it may be.'

Gaius pressed forward. 'That is where I may be some help to you old friend. I believe the language may be that of the Old Religion.'

Geoffrey perked up, all weariness forgotten. 'I did consider that. It would make sense. That language was once widely spoken in these lands. But none but sorcerers know that tongue now, and Uther had all knowledge of how to speak the language eradicated during the Purge. There's no way of translating it.'

Gaius sighed. 'There may be yet.'

Geoffrey cast a wary glance over him. 'You mean … _you_ can understand it?'

Gaius tried not to flinch. It was common knowledge he had once been a sorcerer, yet he always detested bringing the subject up. He didn't like to remind people he once practised the art they all feared so much. But he shouldn't fear Geoffrey; he had always known of Gaius' past, and never treated him any differently.

'Yes, I can,' Gaius sighed heavily. 'I came here in the hope I may be able to help you in your research.'

Geoffrey's face broke into a wide grin, erasing the careworn expression that had been there previously.

'That's the best news I've heard in weeks Gaius.' He stood up and rushed around the table and seized Gaius' hand, wringing it thoroughly. 'I'd be glad of your help.'

He rushed off down one of the twisting aisles of towering bookcases, and Gaius followed. Geoffrey spoke over his shoulder as he walked.

'I've been tearing my hair out over this you know. Apart from that prophecy about Emrys I uncovered, I've found very little else. Dark Magic is rarely mentioned, except to say how very evil and dangerous it is. Most of the books about magic were destroyed during the Purge, and the Druids don't mention it unless they have to. But of course, the less written about it just serves to prove how dangerous and fear-provoking it is.'

Gaius nodded, that was certainly true. Merlin hadn't come close to telling him everything that had been going on, and Gaius almost didn't want to know. He thought if he knew how truly evil and dangerous the magic was, he'd even more afraid for Merlin's safety than he was now.

But what had happened last night? Arthur had mentioned to Gaius that morning the escaped prisoner during the night was one of the Wandrian, and everyone in the city had seen the name of 'Emrys' spelled out in flame above the city walls. Merlin was immersing himself deeper and deeper amongst them. That was why he needed to find out all he could; for Merlin's sake. He couldn't do this on his own.

The two of them reached an alcove at the back of the library where several ancient books were piled up, dusty and mouldy. Gaius wrinkled his nose; this wasn't going to be a pleasant job. Geoffrey rattled on:

'Most of the books are bilingual. Much of it is written in our language, with only some parts in the other. At first I thought they were translations of each other, but the passages are disproportionate. It seems only the most secret parts are written in the old language.'

Gaius silently agreed. That was the case for most books about magic and Druids; Merlin's own magic book had the passages with the instructions for the most powerful spells written in the old language, the idea being to prevent novices without proper instruction from attempting them. And of course, all spells were written in that language. A true sorcerer would read the spells and understand them for what they were, instead of just blindly repeating what was written.

He cast a glance over the assembled books. Their titles sprung out at him, Druidic prophecy, analyses of the Old Religion, history of magical people … all the books Uther had deemed necessary to be kept as evidence of the evil of magic and not burned like most spell books were assembled before him. However as Gaius began to read the writing of the old language inside these copious volumes he knew without a shadow of a doubt if Uther had known what they said they would have burned with the rest. The only thing protecting them was the ignorance of the scholars as to their true purpose; the instruction of sorcerers.

Geoffrey was looking at him expectantly. Gaius nodded, and pulled a chair and sat down, dragging the first book towards him.

'I should be able to translate these without much difficulty.'

Geoffrey looked relieved. 'Thank goodness for that. There's so little in the other books in the library I was beginning to fear all the information we needed was written here in these ones and we'd never be able to read it. Hopefully now we'll have the means to defeat that awful Emrys.'

Gaius said nothing. Geoffrey turned and looked thoughtfully back the way they had come.

'I suppose I'd better get back to my own research, as futile as it seems. You will let me know if you discover something useful? We need all the information we can muster.'

Gaius nodded, and Geoffrey ambled off back to his workstation.

Gaius cast his tired eyes on the text in front of him. _I'll let you know Geoffrey, just as soon as I've told Emrys himself what I've discovered._

He had to concentrate now. Anything he found could what decides the fate of Camelot. _Merlin. Please be careful.  
_

* * *

Morgana stood absolutely still as she scanned the scene in front of her. The hovels were crawling with life, if life it could be called. The people were ruined, rotten, and mad … all as a result of Dark Magic.

She shuddered. These wretched people had brought this on themselves. Were they so weak that they couldn't resist the allure of this 'magic'? Dark Magic may be more powerful than anything the magic of the Old Religion could conjure up, but the consequences were so awful was it really worth it?

Of course it wasn't! What was the use of being powerful when you were in no fit state to enjoy the power you possess?

She felt repulsed. This is what she had been reduced to? Helping these pathetic excuses for humanity?

But it was worth it, she thought. Camelot deserved this. It would pay for everything.

The moans and cries of the people reached her ears and turned away to try and distance herself from it. They reminded her of the countless cries she had heard from men, women and children over her years at Camelot as they had been lead to the scaffold.

Her hands shook in anger. It was Camelot. Camelot who had done this. These people had fled from there, they were desperate, and they were lost. How many of them would have willingly turned to Dark Magic if they had not been cast off for who they were?

None, she told herself. Camelot and Uther had driven these people to this pitiful state. They were going to suffer as she and everyone else here had suffered.

She ran off over the uneven ground, towards the forest of dead trees, putting as much distance between herself and those people as she could.

She found herself wandering among the bleached white trunks, dodging rotten branches, missing the sound of wild, living animals. These lands, these people, they were ruined, that was why they came here.

So why was she here?

She screwed up her face as emotion overcame her. She had suffered so much at Camelot, now she herself inflicted suffering on others. _They deserved it_, she reminded herself daily. But at times she wondered whether she really was as sane as she thought. She'd lost everything. Her magic and Camelot had cost her so much.

She felt tears begin to spill from her eyes. _No!_ She mustn't be weak! She had her duties to fulfil, her debts to repay. She'd open this Portal for these people, and then she'd go back to her sister, and be with her, safe, on the Isle of the Blessed. Camelot would suffer, but so would she, as she watched her sister's life slip away from her.

Her anger returned in full force. _Merlin_. Or Emrys as he called himself now. She still had difficulty in believing what had occurred the previous night. But she had seen herself his eyes glow, as he used the art forbidden by his precious prince.

Was he really on the side of the Wandrian? The magic suggested yes, and that look she had seen on Merlin's face as he used it … _that _was the Merlin that had always hidden beneath the surface.

Nonetheless, Morgana thought, he too was going to suffer. He may assist her in opening the Portal, but ultimately he was responsible for her sister's frailty. She'd use him to destroy Camelot and then she'd destroy him.

She hardly realised how far she had wandered, until she saw fresh green leaves lying on the ground. She blinked. She must have come out at the clearing where the entrance to the Realm was, where the trees still lived.

But as she looked up, she saw this wasn't the case. A single tree, a large oak tree stood in the centre of a small clearing, surrounded by the dead sentinels of other trees. It was broad enough to easily conceal several men behind it, and tall enough to emerge high above the rest of the forest, so high Morgana could not see its uppermost branches. The trunk was thick and knotted, and the fragrant scent of fresh green leaves, of life, permeated the otherwise sterile air.

Morgana stared in awe at this enormous tree. She could sense its presence, the life that exuded from it. She could almost hear a heartbeat coming from its immense trunk. It was ancient, and Morgana suddenly felt tiny, like she was a meaningless speck of existence in comparison to the magnitude of this tree. She was almost afraid of it, such power, such infinitesimal _power …_

She took a step back, no liking the feeling of being underneath its spreading branches. The magic that came from it … it was as old as the earth itself.

This tree was from the Old Religion, there was no doubt about that. How else could it have survived here? But … all living things came from the Old Religion, and all of them were corruptible by Dark Magic. Why was this tree immune?

She took a few further steps back, suddenly afraid. This was the Old Religion in its purest form- the personification of magic itself. She felt drawn to it. Almost as though she and it were kin …

She shook her head, trying to clear it from all thought. It was just a tree!

But the more she stared, the more a sense of familiarity seemed to overcome her. It seemed to be calling her, welcoming her home …

Her heart raced. She had to leave now, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot.

She felt the magic in her body begin a boil and surge. It tingled and sped through her entire body like a flame. She felt _alive_, as she never had before. She felt the magic rise up inside of her, powerful, hungry, flaming …

She cried out, and wrenched her eyes away from the tree. She turned on her heel and ran away from the spot as fast as she could; terrified of the effect her magic was having inside her.

_What had happened?  
_

* * *

Gehola watched as Morgana sped away, her eyes wide and terrified. He'd felt the monumental shift in power that had just occurred, something he'd never felt in all the years of coming for refuge at the tree. When the Dark Magic got too much to bear, the solace of the power of this tree helped to soothe him, and although he hadn't felt the debilitating effects of the Dark Magic in quite some time, he still came here, relishing the power of the magic as it imbued him with strength.

But he'd never felt something like that happen before. Morgana, the Prophesied One, had caused the balance of power to change. It had drawn her in, given life to the magic dormant within her.

He frowned. The magic of the tree, it had reached out to her, as though recognising her. The pure magic within her had found kinship with the power of the Old Religion.

He bit his lip. The prophecies were true then, her magic truly was insurmountable.

But what about Emrys? The legends said he was pure magic itself. But why did he feel the effects of Dark Magic, and not Morgana?

He glanced back up at the tree that had been his protector over the years. What was it really? What could its magic do? Why did it protect him? And was this the real reason Gehola found it so easy to pick up new spells?

He made up his mind. He'd find Emrys, and bring him here. Questions had to be answered.

* * *

**A/N: I'll try and update soon, but the only time I can get to write is odd moments here and there while studying so ... I'll do what I can!**

**Hope this isn't seeming too boring. I'm taking a while to get to the action! Please let me know! Also, Morgana, good or evil? Redemption or revenge? What do you want to see? ;)**

**Please review you lovely people! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Yay! I'm back! You still there? Please don't hate me!**

**Life's been crazy, but I now have a plan. I've been 'stockpiling' chapters, writing several in advance, which is what I really should have done from the start. I'll be updating regularly now, once a week at the very least, I promise!**

**Thanks to those of you leaving reviews and PMs to prod me into updating. I'd forgotten how much I loved this story! :D  
**

* * *

Evening came too quickly for Merlin, exhausted as he was. He'd barely spent more than what seemed like a few minutes resting before he was up again and racing around trying to complete his chores for Arthur on time. The weariness seemed to seep through his entire body and Merlin felt as though he'd aged more than thirty years in the last few weeks alone.

He wanted nothing more than for all of this to just _end._

But, as soon as he'd finished his chores for the day, and before Arthur could issue any more, he'd slipped away, heading for the Wandrian once more.

He could barely think he was so exhausted. He questioned the wisdom in exposing himself to the Dark Magic in this state; he was in no way fit to combat it, and he needed to be on top of his game with the suspicious Elders and Morgana to think about.

_Morgana. _Every time he thought of her his heart ached. Why had it had to turn out like this?

He cast the spell which led him to the Wandrian, barely comprehending the world around him. This had simply become habit now. This was his own daily torture.

He dragged his feet through the Forest of No Life every second dreading what lay ahead of him. He wasn't sure why he was even going tonight; he had no new information (at least any faulty or non-important information) that he could give them, but he felt he had to at least make an appearance, no matter what it cost him.

His position with them was wearing increasingly thin; Wrecan despised him in every way, Hafela was being infuriatingly intuitive, and Morgana was just complicating things even further.

Could he reach out to her? Could he ever bring her back from the darkness?

He reached the outskirts of the forest, and saw the castle of the Wandrian looming ominously from the darkness. He paused for a moment to look at it, the wails of the wretched souls in the hovels in front of him reaching his ears.

_Was it really worth it?_

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned, to see Gehola running down the path behind him, his face flushed.

"Merlin!" Gehola finished in front of him, gasping for air. "I saw her Merlin! I saw Morgana!"

Merlin instantly stiffened, and glanced around him, suddenly alert.

"Where?"

Gehola shook his head as he noticed Merlin's sudden caution, still trying to get his breath back. "Not here! It was this morning, after you'd left. She was at that tree- you know the one I told you about? She just came there all of a sudden, and something weird happened. I've never felt anything like it before!"

Merlin felt his curiosity piqued. He remembered his earlier decision to try and find out more about Gehola and this 'tree' of his. Why did it affect him so? Was it the reason for Gehola's strange ability to resist Dark Magic?

He glanced back at the castle, its shadow dominating the valley like an angry cloud. The Wandrian wouldn't miss him … not for tonight. He had nothing for them anyway …

He turned back to Gehola. "Take me there."

Gehola grinned, grabbed hold of Merlin's shirt sleeve and began dragging him away through the deadened trees, gambolling like an excited puppy.

Merlin followed clumsily, his weariness causing him to stumble more frequently than was normal, even for him. Gehola ran forwards confidently, darting here and there through the identical dead trees without missing a beat, forming his own path.

Merlin tried to remember the way, but everything looked so _similar. _He simply had to trust Gehola blindly as they wound deeper and deeper into the silent forest.

The first indications that they were reaching their goal weren't too far away. Merlin could feel it; the power of the Old Religion was permeating his very being, warming his heart, banishing his fatigue.

Eventually they emerged into the clearing where it stood, an enormous oak, almost singing with the magic of the Old Religion.

Merlin gaped at it for a few moments, completely overwhelmed by the sheer majesty of it and the power it exuded. Then he felt something change within him.

The magic within his body seemed to rise up, to boil and surge through his veins like fire, sending an exhilarating sensation of power roaring through him. He staggered slightly as it seemed to hit him with enormous force. The magic in this tree, it reached out to him … like it was kin to him. It seemed to invigorate him, leaving him almost breathless at the reaction he was having to it.

He exhaled, still stunned by the sheer force of the power here in this clearing. He noticed Gehola staring at him, his mouth open slightly.

"That's _exactly_ what happened when Morgana came here!"

He continued staring at Merlin, an expression of wariness suddenly across his face. "Why did it affect you and her so?"

Merlin frowned for a moment. "Morgana and I are both of the Old Religion. It must just have a greater effect on us." He looked interestedly at Gehola. "What effect does it have on _you?_"

Gehola's face suddenly cleared, a blissful expression spreading across it. He smiled, and his eyes seemed to drift and stare into nothingness.

"It's … like nothing I've ever experienced anywhere else. I can't explain it … it's just … just …"

Gehola closed his eyes dreamily and smiled vacantly. "It feels like something powerful is just spreading throughout my entire body … something that banishes the darkness away and leaves me feeling like I can do anything …"

Merlin watched him, as Gehola walked over to one of the trees protruding roots and flung himself down upon the ground, his back against the root, his face cleared of any worries. That description didn't sound too dissimilar from his own experience.

Merlin hesitantly crossed over to Gehola and seated himself on the ground beside him, ever aware of the tree's infinitesimal power. "Then … you must be of the Old Religion too."

Gehola turned and looked at him, a tiny little frown crossing his features. "How is that possible?"

Merlin sighed. "I'm not sure. But it's the only explanation for how it affects you. A tree with the power of the Old Religion like this _would_ affect anybody, there's no one that wouldn't feel the benefits of it. But there's very few who'd be able to harness its power to ward against Dark Magic." He thought for a moment more. "I have a talisman of the Old Religion," he said, thinking of his dragon tooth. "It helps me stave away the Dark Magic, but I have to be in constant contact with it."

Gehola's frown deepened. "It isn't like that for me. At first, whenever I left this place after I first found it, it was awful. Like plunging myself back into a nightmare after a pleasant dream. But eventually, when I began leaving, it seemed as though the power came with me."

"What do you mean?" asked Merlin quickly.

"Well," said Gehola, deep in thought. "It was like, wherever I went, I had this constant barrier against Dark Magic. It was like the Old Religion was with me wherever I went, and the Dark Magic couldn't corrupt it."

"How could that be?" pondered Merlin, almost to himself. Gehola continued on, as though he hadn't heard him.

"It was almost like- like … there was this whole new life inside of me, keeping me strong. Like this magic was deep down inside me." He smiled to himself. "I don't really need to come back here. But I like just sitting here. I like the feeling of the magic washing over me."

His eyes closed again as he basked in the magic that surrounded them. But Merlin's mind was racing.

"But why you? What connection do you have to it? I thought the whole point of all these bloody prophecies were that people like me and Morgana were, well, we were _unique._ Why would it affect you?"

Gehola opened his eyes. "Well, there was this silly family story … my aunt always said we were descended from the Originals, the very first priests of the Old Religion, who helped to found it and began its worship. She always said that's why we were superior, because we had the pure magic of the ancients, and that's why she turned to Dark Magic, because she thought the combination of the two would make her invincible." Gehola's face darkened. "I never really believed. Dark Magic led her to nothing but decay and destruction. I'd always assumed her rambling about her 'noble past' was just a result of the delusions of her mind the corruption by Dark Magic had caused."

Merlin considered this for a moment. "Do you think that's why you could master all these spells so easily? Because of the, er, _power_ the tree gave you? Because your ancestors were the first ones discover how to delve into the power of the Old Religion?"

Gehola shrugged. "Maybe. I never really cared much for magic. All I ever wanted was to be free of all of this. I never gave it much thought before. All I cared about was that it at least prevented me from heading down the same path my aunt had."

They were silent for several minutes, as Merlin tried to make sense of this.

"Can I try something?" Merlin asked tentatively.

Gehola looked at him in interest, and nodded.

"Try this spell for me: '_Gecyðan mec se feorh cræft of mīn getrēowe mōdsefa.'"_

Gehola looked confused, but complied without question. Holding out his hand, he muttered the incantation, and there within a palm, a great glowing light appeared. It wasn't an ordinary light, for guidance or for warmth, but a true representation of the power with in him. It glowed more brightly than Merlin had ever seen, golden in colour, undulating with an ethereal glow, mesmerizingly beautiful.

The spell was designed to reveal a soul's true essence, and Merlin could see clearly what it had revealed. The power of the Old Religion was strong within this boy, so strong it seemed to consume him. It was in his very soul; permeating through him in a rush of power so strong it beggared belief.

Merlin gasped. Gehola was right; it was almost as though a separate life force was existing within him, with phenomenal power. But what that meant, for Merlin and the Wandrian, he had no idea.

* * *

Gaius sighed heavily, as he sat back in his uncomfortable wooden chair in Geoffrey's library, after hours of poring over the ancient copious volumes. His eyes were tired, and his whole body ached from sitting in the same position for several hours.

He removed his reading glasses and contemplated them for a moment, sitting silently in the musty library as he prepared himself for his next move.

Several hours of painstaking research and sifting through and translating ancient texts had finally yielded some results. And they were not to Gaius' liking.

He stood up slowly, almost able to hear his weary joints creaking in protest. Arthur had to be told.

He picked up the heavy manual in front of him, and held it close to himself, as he shuffled out of the room.

The halls were silent, every shadow looked sinister. Gaius did not halt in his path towards the Council Chambers, where he hoped the prince and his advisors would still be.

He approached the heavy doors to see light spilling out from beneath them, tendrils of light snaking out across the stone floor.

He sighed heavily once again, extended his hand and pushed open the doors with difficulty. The occupants of the room looked up as he entered. They were gathered around a large polished table in the centre of the room. Arthur sat at its head, the space in front of him covered with scrolls of parchment and ancient maps. He looked tired, even more tired than Gaius felt, and a haunted look was on his face; the burden of leadership against such terrible enemies was taking its toll. His Knights sat around him, along with several members of Court in varying states of fatigue. They all looked grim.

With a quick cursory glance, Gaius determined Merlin was not in the room. A moment of panic overtook him as he realised where Merlin must be, and the fear of what he would encounter amongst those people clawed at him from his very insides.

He moved towards the gathering with purpose, and as he approached the table Lancelot stood and offered him his seat, which Gaius accepted gratefully, his limbs aching.

Arthur turned to him, his expression wary. "I take it then that you've discovered something? Geoffrey told me of your idea of translating the most ancient texts."

Gaius nodded, staring into the youthful face of the prince, hating himself for the further burdens he was about to place upon him.

"I did, Sire. And I'm afraid the news is not good."

Arthur chuckled hollowly. "When is it ever these days?"

Gaius bowed his head in agreement. He reached for the book he had deposited in front of him on the table, and opened it at the page he had marked.

"Even amongst the ancient texts, there was little written about the Wandrian, or Emrys himself. I began to despair I would find anything. But then I discovered the account of a great war in the chronicles of Lar, an ancient Druid."

Arthur nodded for him to continue, frowning.

Gaius drew in a deep breath. "Several centuries ago, the Druidic clan Lar belonged to was an immense civilisation, the focus of its power being the city of Cineod. They were a proud and peaceful society, and wielded much power. Then their power was contested by a rival clan who 'wielded power of the most abhorrent kind'. They called themselves the Wandrian."

The occupants of the room began to stir. Gaius continued:

"They demanded land and power, and wished to dominate all magical users. The people of Cineod resisted. The Wandrian gave them an ultimatum: surrender, or they would open the Portal, and all life would be theirs to destroy.

Everyone was listening intently now, the tension in the room heightening considerably.

"Normally, the opening of the Portal would require a huge amount of energy, rumoured to be held only by the 'Prophesied One' who would one day come, to bring darkness to the world. But one Wandrian member found a way around this, no one is quite sure how. The Druids did not put stock in their threats, and refused their ultimatum. The Portal was opened."

The room seemed to draw breath as one, listening to Gaius' tale with increasing horror.

"Evil, dark magic was unleashed upon the world, too great and terrible to imagine. Lar writes '_It was though the end had come. The evil fell upon us. It destroyed us. There was no meaning to life anymore; no love, no laughter, no kindness. Everything had been replaced by evil, fear, despair and death. We prayed for our end; for what could be left to live for? There was nothing but pain. Fate had doomed us all._"

Arthur paled, but made no other motion. Gaius ploughed on, aware the tidings he was bearing could bring only further fear.

"The city was razed to the ground, and almost everyone was killed by the evil forces that fled from the Portal, where the Veil between the worlds was at its thinnest. The Dorocha were unleashed."

"Dorocha?" inquired Arthur, looking as though he didn't want to hear the answer.

Gaius grimaced. "They are said to be the voices of the dead- evil spirits from the world beyond the Veil. It is said no mortal can withstand their touch. It is the touch of death itself."

Arthur looked down at the table for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Eventually he said, in a soft voice: "Continue, Gaius."

Gaius cast him a concerned glance before resuming his tale. "It goes without saying this caused massive devastation. The Druids were all but wiped out. Then one Druid, by the name of Guinnian, journeyed to the Portal, and managed to close it the only way known to exist. He sacrificed himself, by walking through the torn Veil, and banished the darkness."

Gaius paused, and drew breath. "The Portal was said to be located in the Darkling Woods, not far from Camelot's current position. I believe that this is the Wandrian's plan; to seize control of Camelot, not for its prestige and power, but to open the Portal, and unleash the Dorocha and other evil forces from beyond the Veil."

Silence reigned over them all like a heavy weight.

Arthur nodded, and drew in a shuddering breath. He raised his head and looked at Gaius. "Thank you for telling me this."

Gaius didn't reply.

Arthur turned to look at his Knights. "You heard him. It of vital importance this Portal is not located by the Wandrian. Increase the patrols, double the guard. We must find it first and fight with every last man we have to ensure it is protected."

His Knights nodded solemnly, and rose. They bowed and took their leave, their expressions stony.

Gaius also rose to leave, before turning back to Arthur.

"The Druids have long guarded the Portal sire, they had to ensure such a horrific act would never occur again. They will have kept it well hidden from us and from our enemies. If they cannot protect it from the Wandrian, then I fear there is nothing we can do that would stop them."

Arthur looked at his evenly, and for a moment Gaius caught sight of the young boy he'd tended to all those years ago during childhood illnesses.

"I know Gaius," he said in a voice devoid of emotion. "But what else can we do?"

Gaius did not reply, but bowed, and turned to depart, leaving the young Prince Arthur alone in the room.

_Merlin_, he thought. _You really are our only hope.  
_

* * *

**A/N: I started writing this story a year ago, before the start of Series 4. As a result, some of the plot points in this story e.g. the 'Veil' and the death needed to close it are quite similar to the opening two-parter of Series 4. I've decided to include some of the points from those episodes, such as the Dorocha, as far as it fits the original plan for my story. I'd always imagined something like the Dorocha coming through the Portal anyway, and thought this was a good example of what I'd originally planned. **

**However, it IS going to be slightly different, and in line with what I'd originally planned. The idea had stemmed from the stories I'd heard about the veil between worlds being thinnest at the time of Samhain (Hallowe'en) and how evil spirits would come into the world at that time. Evidently the writers of Merlin had heard the same stories and decided to base a couple of episodes on it, therefore some of the plot points are the same, but we varied considerably in our interpretations of it. While I like what they did with it, I have to remain faithful to what I'd originally planned. Therefore, please don't PM me saying 'That's not canon!'- it was when I started writing this.**

**Hope this makes sense! :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Woo! My weekly update on schedule!**

**I've had a bit of critisism saying that my inconsistent updating has made my plot all mixed up and I've thrown Gehola in out of no where, and that the rules that govern Dark Magic aren't clear or consistent. All I can say is that my plot has been meticulously planned throughout and my inconsistancy has in no way affected what I'm writing. If the plot is confusing, I hope you can just stick it out; this is from Merlin's POV after all, and I was hoping to be able to convey it the way he saw it, i.e. confusing. Everything will be explained!  
**

* * *

Dawn rose over Camelot, illuminating the ramshackle houses and crowded streets, bringing a new day to its inhabitants. Arthur watched the sun rise from his chambers, though not really seeing it, nor appreciating the beauty it held. He'd been awake all the night; every time he'd even attempted to sleep, dark mutilated shadows would spring up before his eyes, threatening to invade his dream. In the end he'd just given up, and taken to staring at the kingdom that would soon be his.

The previous night's conversation rang through his head. Bits and pieces of the story were beginning to come together now, but Arthur wasn't reassured. True, they now knew the Wandrian's plans, and what this mysterious Portal would do when it was opened, but they were nowhere closer to winning any form of victory, if anything, they were in an even worse situation than before.

Emrys. Arthur hated him, hated him with every fibre of his being. Hated the man who sought to seize his kingdom and bring doom to them all.

His patrols had been issued; all searching for this mysterious Portal, but Arthur knew they would have no success. According to Gaius the Druids guarded it fiercely, and if their own settlements could have eluded Camelot for so long then something they guarded with such vehemence would certainly not be found easily. He needed to find this Portal! Couldn't the Druids realise Camelot needed to be included in its guard? It involved the destruction of the entire world, didn't they have a say in how it was to be protected? Couldn't they work together somehow?

Arthur laughed humourlessly. What would his father think if he discovered Arthur was thinking about cooperating with the Druids? But his father was bedridden, teetering on the brink of insanity. Arthur held the power now; he had to make a choice about defending the kingdom the way he saw fit.

How were they to guard this thing if the Wandrian ever turned up to claim it? What could they possibly do?

And if it was opened …

A death was what was needed to close it. And Arthur knew that if the moment ever came, he wouldn't hesitate to give his life for his kingdom.

But what use would such a sacrifice be? What would prevent the Wandrian from simply trying again?

The sun rose higher and higher, and the city came to life, the hustle and bustle of daily life beginning the same way as it always did. But for how much longer?

A servant knocked on the door and entered, placing a tray of food down on a table and asking him what he would like to wear. Arthur hadn't even needed to turn around to know that it wasn't Merlin; Merlin never knocked.

Was he ill again? What was really wrong with him?

Arthur sat down at his table, and began picking aimlessly at his breakfast, observing the replacement servant surreptitiously. He remembered what had happened only a couple of nights ago; the Wandrian prisoner had been rescued by _two_ men, one of them Emrys. Who was the third man? Was he the spy in Camelot? Who was it?

He screwed up in face in frustration. He _hated_ magic!

* * *

Gaius shuffled through the castle on his rounds, not really paying much attention. His thoughts were solely on his ward, curled up in bed. Gaius' heart was heavy; he saw how much Merlin was suffering, and wished more than anything he could do something to help.

Merlin had only returned a few hours before dawn, his face even more harried and care-worn than usual as of late. He'd told Gaius of what had happened, in a flat, deadened voice. He'd talked about the young man he was friendly with among the Wandrian. Gaius had been shocked enough to realise there was any good amongst such evil before Merlin had even mentioned the boy's uncanny powers.

Gaius had searched through all his books for such references, but to no avail. It was just another mystery to add to the pile. He had, in turn, told Merlin of everything he had learned from his searching in the Court records, watching as Merlin's eyes widened in horror at what would happen if the Portal was ever opened. It was yet more burdens for the young man, burdens Gaius wished he could bear solely on his own.

He only wished he had discovered something more useful; something that could help them, rather than frighten them even more. He'd looked in vain for any more information on the prophecies, anything that would help Merlin know what to do when the time came. But, as he had suspected, the intricacies of the Druidic religions and rituals were more often than not passed on orally, instead of being copied down.

Merlin had locked himself away in his room, exhausted, and was still asleep many hours later. Gaius hadn't had the heart to wake him; he needed any rest he could get. Besides, the previous night he'd been practically dead on his feet. He'd dismissed the servant that had come around mid-morning to inquire after his whereabouts with the excuse that Merlin was ill again. But how often could they keep this up?

Gaius emerged into the courtyard in the afternoon sun, heading towards his chambers, when he saw Merlin emerge. He looked no better than he had the previous night; just as weary and ill, as if his dreams had been plagued with nightmares of the most horrid kind, which Gaius reminded himself, they probably had.

Merlin looked around for a couple of moments, blinking in the sun, the shadows beneath his eyes only being heightened.

Gaius made to go to him, but Gwaine found him first.

Gaius hesitated, before turning his back and heading in the opposite direction. He hoped Gwaine would have more success with Merlin than he'd had.

* * *

"Merlin!"

Merlin turned, and saw Gwaine heading towards him, having just alighted from his horse. He walked over to him, guiding his horse by the reins.

"Do you want me to take those?" Merlin asked dully, gesturing towards the reins.

Gwaine frowned. "No, Merlin. I wanted to _talk_ to you." He made a motion over his shoulder and a young stable boy scurried over and led the horse away. When they'd left, Gwaine looked at Merlin and fixed him with a beady stare.

"How are you Merlin?"

Merlin scowled. He wasn't in the mood for more sympathetic looks and questions about his well-being. His head was splitting, and he felt as though since last night's conversation with Gaius, he had a heavy lead weight inside of him, dragging him down. His skin crawled with the urge to just _do _something, instead of all this sneaking around. He was sick and tired of having to pretend to be less than he was; he felt so _useless._

"I'm fantastic Gwaine!" he replied sarcastically. "Just terrific. Never better!"

Gwaine's scowl matched Merlin's. "Merlin, I'm only trying to help! You look like crap!"

"Then why'd you ask?" Merlin shot back, annoyed.

Gwaine sighed. "Merlin, I'm worried about-"

"I know! Everyone's worried about me! Everyone wants to help!" Merlin almost shouted. "But the thing is Gwaine, no one can!"

He didn't know why he was reacting so violently. His pent-up frustrations and anxiety just seemed to pour out of him all at once.

He sighed heavily, and leaned against the wall behind him. "I'm not coping Gwaine, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

Gwaine placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "Then don't do it Merlin. Walk away!"

"I can't Gwaine!" Merlin said back almost pleadingly. "There's no one who can do it but me! I know that! But I also don't know if I can! And if I don't do it, then we're all pretty much doomed!"

Gwaine cast a couple of glances around him, before moving closer to Merlin, and dropping his voice.

"Merlin, you're one of the strongest men I know. But even you aren't invincible. You can't keep risking yourself like this!"

Merlin stared back at him, breathing heavily. "Then you think I can't do it as well?"

Gwaine started. "No! I never said that!"

"But you're thinking it aren't you?"

Gwaine stood staring at him, a tiny frown on his face. "Merlin, you just as good as said yourself you think you can't do it. All I'm asking you to do is be realistic!"

Merlin knew he was being irrational, but he couldn't help his anger growing with every second he spent talking with Gwaine. It was as though some great darkness was rising within him willing him to lash out at the man in front of him. He plunged his hand into his pocket and grabbed onto his dragon's tooth desperately, but it didn't help. Nothing was able to sway the darkness within him.

Merlin looked away from Gwaine. "I _have _to do this Gwaine. Nothing you say can stop me. I might fail, but I have to try anyway."

Gwaine shook his head. "Merlin, we can't risk you like this. You're ill! You haven't got a chance of keeping this up for much longer! There's not much more you can do for us! You can't fight them Merlin, what use would you be against sorcerers? Unless you can find out anything useful in our fight against them, there's no point in you being there, risking your life!"

Merlin made no answer.

Gwaine hesitated a moment. "There isn't anything more you can do Merlin. Unless … we need to find this Portal. It's absolutely essential we stop them getting to it. Do you know where it is?"

Merlin looked up at him. "No."

"What, that's it?" Gwaine asked, confused. "You're _spying_ on them Merlin! What use is it having you as a spy if you can't find out things?"

"I don't know where it is," Merlin repeated, trying to keep his temper in check. "If I knew, I would tell you."

"Would you Merlin?" Gwaine asked raising his voice.

Merlin tensed, glaring at Gwaine. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It seems to me Merlin, you're doing more spying for _them_ than you are for _us_!"

Merlin reeled. "Are you seriously suggesting I'm on their side?"

"What I'm suggesting is that your loyalties seem to be getting rather confused!" Gwaine spat.

Merlin stared at him agape. How could Gwaine think this of him? How could he seriously think Merlin would _help _them!

"I'm doing all I can Gwaine! It _happens_ to be a very precarious situation I'm in!"

Gwaine nodded. "It is. And I'm not suggesting for one second that you're not trying your best. But you're surrounding yourself with Dark Magic on a daily basis Merlin. And I'm afraid it's having more of an effect on you than you realise."

Merlin was fuming. His whole body shook. It was costing him every last bit of energy he had every day to stave off the effects of Dark Magic! How _dare_ he suggest he was being influenced!

Gwaine tried another route. "And what about Morgana?"

Merlin stared. "What about her?"

"She's this 'Prophesied One' isn't she?" Gwaine asked impatiently. "She's the one that can open this Portal! Are you doing anything about it?"

"And what do you suggest I do?" asked Merlin.

"Kill her Merlin!" Gwaine said urgently. "Kill her before she has a chance to do this!"

Merlin frowned. "If I did that I'd be no better than they are. There's still a chance for her."

Gwaine sighed exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air. "What chance Merlin? She's turned her back on Camelot! She's beyond saving!"

Kilgarrah's words rang in Merlin's mind; he had said much the same thing.

"No," said Merlin angrily. He couldn't believe this, he _wouldn't_. The prophecy had said she could be saved. He _had_ to believe in it! His mind told him Morgana was beyond saving after everything she had done, everything he had seen her do, but his heart said otherwise. "There could still be a way to save her! I have to believe that! I have to try!"

Gwaine looked at him as though he'd gone crazy. "Why would you _want_ to?"

_Because she had once been so good, _Merlin thought._ Because he was the one partly responsible for her downfall. _

"I have to try Gwaine," he repeated firmly, his anger continuing to spike.

Gwaine shook his head and began to back away. "I don't believe what I'm hearing. Merlin, have you gone completely mental? You should be focusing on finding out where this Portal is, not devoting your time to some lost cause!"

Merlin opened his mouth to retort angrily, when a shout from further away down the courtyard stopped him.

"Merlin! Gwaine! There you are!" Arthur came hurrying into view, having just dismounted his horse, obviously coming from one of the search parties. He stopped in front of Merlin and his expression blanched.

"Merlin! You look awful! Shouldn't you be resting or something? I'll call Gaius-"

"NO!" Merlin yelled, his anger bubbling over. "Why can't all of you just _leave me alone?"_

He took off running across the courtyard and down through the town, desperate to get away, leaving the two men he'd been speaking to watching him in shock.

* * *

Morgana was sulking. She'd only been here a couple of days and she was already impatient. Samhain was still a few weeks away, and she felt more than useless just waiting here, amongst these disgusting people.

The more she learned about Dark Magic, the more it sickened her. It was more horrid than she could ever have imagined, making her sick to her stomach. She detested it, and she abhorred the fact that she was being forced to ally with these people to exact her revenge on Camelot.

Their magic was evil. Purely evil.

There were those who would say that she herself was evil. But they mattered not to her. She didn't care what they thought. They were the ones who'd turned their backs on her; _they_ were the evil ones.

Her thoughts drifted to her life back in Camelot. Uther had been truly ruthless; he slaughtered men, women and children mercilessly because they didn't conform to his perfect visions of the world. How could her enemies say _she_ was evil, but still fight in his name, with his coat-of-arms on their tunics?

Uther had been kind to her- when it suited him. He comforted her, showered her with gifts, loved her, but she now it had all been some hollow empty lie. How could someone so cold show true love? He had never cared for her.

He was nothing but a false and cruel tyrant.

Her father …

Was she really like him?

Morgana shook her head of these thoughts and looked around about her, willing herself to see something more than what she did. These _people, _corrupted by such evil magic, ruined and decaying lay in their filthy hovels wailing to the world. Any sympathy she might have felt for them was easily surpassed by the contempt she felt for their weaknesses; they had done this to themselves, they had _chosen _this.

And now she had chosen to be here among them, perhaps just as weak …

The world hated her, and she hated the world. Her sister lay dying on the Isle of the Blessed, her own brother was hunting her down with hatred in his heart … he'd been corrupted by their father-_his father. _Gorlois was Morgana's father. He'd been the one who had truly loved her, the one who Uther had sent to his death without a hint of remorse.

She thought about Arthur. If things had been different … no, she couldn't think like this. He had made his choice. And she had made hers.

Just then, another object of her hate came stumbling into view. _Merlin _came running through the dead trees as though being chased, towards the village. He saw her, and stopped.

He looked so vulnerable. So different from the cold persona of Emrys that he'd used when dealing with the Wandrian and herself. She felt her contempt grow at the reminder.

He stood looking at her, and Morgana noticed he looked ill; his face was gaunt, his eyes hollow and his bearing was that of a man fatigued by many years of strife. Thick black shadows lay under his eyes, which looked ancient and wearied.

Morgana scowled at him.

"Well _Emrys. _You're back then? Ready to spill all of your precious prince's secrets?"

Merlin's face hardened, but he said nothing. Morgana continued to appraise his appearance.

"You don't look so well _Emrys_," she observed, putting as much contempt into the word as she could. "Perhaps you should lie down, preferably y at your prince's feet like the loyal dog that I know you are."

Merlin looked at her, his eyes sad. "You'll never let go of your hate will you Morgana?"

Morgana was surprised at the question, but responded without pausing. "And why should I? Hate serves a purpose; it ensures no one will remain unpunished for their wrongs. And I have been wronged by Camelot! I'm determined to ensure its punishment is just!"

Merlin blinked. "You think this punishment is just? You think you are the only one to have been wronged? It is not Camelot that has wronged you Morgana, it is Uther. Why do you want revenge on an entire city because of one man?

"Why do you?" Morgana retorted. "You're aiding in Camelot's destruction aren't you? Or is that all a lie?"

Merlin stared at her for a long moment. "No matter how I have been wronged by Camelot, I do not believe this punishment is just. Dark Magic is evil, Morgana, you know this as well as I. What we are doing is not destroying Camelot, but the entire world."

Morgana blinked rapidly. "Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I believe I can right the wrongs that were committed by doing this," Merlin responded, rather cryptically.

Morgana stared. "You make no sense!"

Merlin smiled. "I suppose I wouldn't, not to you anyway Morgana."

Morgana frowned. "You said yourself in front of the Wandrian that you wanted Camelot's destruction. That you had suffered as much as I. You're _helping_ them! You are a sorcerer! You must hate Camelot as much as I!"

Merlin smiled again. "I told you once before Morgana, '_It doesn't have to be like this_.' I have my reasons for doing what I'm doing. Are you certain in your own reasons?"

Morgana was taken aback. Of course she was certain! She hated Camelot! She wanted Uther destroyed for what he had done, for the fear and pain she had endured.

Merlin took a step closer. "Are you Morgana? Do you want Camelot destroyed because you believe it is a just cause, or because you're so angry at the world you feel you have no other destiny? Look deep down Morgana, and question whether you really want this."

Suddenly it clicked. He was trying to trick her into saying she was hesitating about whether or not she wanted to go through with this. He was questioning her loyalties! Well that wasn't going to work!

She sneered at him. "What else would I want Merlin?"

Merlin stared at her, his expression softening. "Perhaps you want what you've left behind, a place where you can belong. You're lost Morgana. You can't find your place in the world, so you're trying to make one, by causing as much pain and suffering as you endured yourself. Or are you truly so evil as to want this just for the pleasure of doing it?"

"I want to do this Morgana, but for reasons different to yourself. I don't have to agree with you be allied with yourself and the Wandrian. I sense that you yourself don't believe in the Wandrian's principles. I don't either. But I'm certain in what must be done. Are you as certain? Do you believe they can bring justice? Or as you so far gone into your self-hate to not care anymore?"

Merlin smiled again, and walked off towards the castle, leaving Morgana behind him, lost for words.

He was trying to unsettle her, that was all. He was trying to twist her mind, confuse her. A twisted revenge for what she'd done to him. Well, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She watched his retreating figure with curiosity. She couldn't make him out; even though his great secret had been revealed to her she still couldn't make sense of him. Merlin's character had always been shrouded in mystery, and now was no exception.

What did he really want? Did he want revenge on Camelot? Or was he still loyal to that awful city? But if he was, why would he stay in a city where his very identity was a crime?

She stormed off in the opposite direction, trying to clear her head. She _wouldn't_ listen to him. She wouldn't even begin to contemplate what he'd said to her; she detested cryptic riddles. She wouldn't allow him to distract her from what must be done. She _knew_ what her destiny was.

A single mournful wail rose up from the village behind her, as the Dark Magic spread further into the hearts and minds of the people there.

She knew this was the right thing. She _knew_ it!

* * *

**A/N: Update will be one week from today. I've made a vow to keep on schedule this time, therefore the next few chapters are already pre-written.**

**Please let me know what you think! :)  
**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: My weekly update! Only one day late :)**

**Some of you have been seriously confused about Dark Magic, so I've tried to include a sort-of explanation in here.  
**

**I apologise for the relative shortness of this chapter ... you'll see why at the end ;)  
**

* * *

"There is something seriously wrong with Merlin," Gwaine said to Arthur, his expression worried.

"I know," Arthur responded wearily. "But he won't talk about it, and I've no idea how to help him." He broke off for a few moments, thinking. "Why is this magic affecting him like this? What's going on?"

Gwaine looked hesitant. Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Do you know what it is?"

Gwaine nodded. "Yes. I do."

"Well, what is it?" Arthur asked impatiently, standing up from behind the desk in his chambers. "Tell me!"

But Gwaine looked unsure. "I promised I wouldn't say."

Arthur didn't have the time for this. "That's much the same as Lancelot said! He also said he knew what was going on, but he _promised_ me he'd tell me if things got out of hand! Well, they're out of hand! Merlin is in some serious trouble and I want to know what it is. I'm beginning to believe what Percival's been saying; I think Merlin's involved in this Wandrian thing! Is he?"

Gwaine paused for a moment, his mouth open, looking more conflicted than Arthur had ever seen.

"He-"

At that moment, Gwaine was cut off by the sounding of the Warning Bell, ringing out over Camelot. Arthur's heart leapt. Was this is it? Was this the Wandrian finally making their move?

He and Gwaine ran from the room. This conversation would have to wait until later.

* * *

Merlin sat heavily at the table, trying not to notice as Gaius looked down disapprovingly.

"Yes," he said wearily. "I know I shouldn't have shouted at Gwaine and Arthur this morning. But I was just so frustrated!"

Gaius sat himself across from Merlin. "I understand. But you have to be more careful. They're getting suspicious!"

Merlin groaned. "I know."

Gaius sighed heavily. "I've been doing more and more research."

Merlin looked up at him. "Have you found anything?"

Gaius shook his head. "I'm afraid knowledge on these matters is rather thin on the ground."

Merlin groaned again. Would he ever have any luck?

Gaius continued. "From what you've told me of this boy, Gehola, it seems to me his magic is quite unique. His magic is incorruptible, which means it must be straight from the Old Religion."

"Yeah," said Merlin. "He seems to, I dunno, _absorb_ magic straight from that tree thing."

Gaius nodded. "This is like nothing I've ever heard of. The Old Religion within a person can be corrupted. Like with you Merlin. You're a Dragonlord, which means you're essentially a creature of the Old Religion. But because this magic is inside a person, it's essentially 'diluted' for want of a better word. That's why you can use that talisman to protect yourself; it's straight from the Old Religion, and you can draw from that power consciously."

Merlin fingered the talisman in his pocket as he listened.

"With Morgana, this seems to be different. It seems she has the pure power of the Old Religion inside of her, and it manifests itself completely free of her own volition. That's why she _can't _be corrupted, because she has no control over the magic within her. That's why she'll be the one who can open the Portal. The magic inside of her is completely raw and pure."

Merlin nodded, growing ever more confused. "And Gehola? I thought Morgana's situation was unique. How come he has all this power?"

Gaius shook his head. "As to that … I've never heard of something like it. It almost seems like he has the pure power of the Old Religion inside of him, but, unlike Morgana, he can access it, he can actually _use _it."

"And what does that mean for him?" asked Merlin.

"It means … I don't really know. He is a complete enigma. The power of the Old Religion was never supposed to be inside a person like this."

Merlin frowned. "Then is it dangerous for him?"

"I don't know Merlin," Gaius said heavily.

"He described it, he described it like there was a whole other life force inside of him," Merlin said, remembering. Like the magic had become a part of himself."

Gaius still looked grave. "If that is the case, I don't even want to think about what this may mean for him. This _isn't _supposed to happen to a person. Everyone has the power of the Old Religion inside of them, some obviously more than others. But, with the exception of Morgana, it is _always corruptible._ That's the fundamental law. How all of this magic can be locked away inside of him without being corrupted, and with him being able to draw upon it, unlike Morgana … "

He trailed away, and Merlin found his heart beating faster. Was Gehola in any sort of danger from all this power?

He sighed and rested his head on the table. "This makes my head hurt."

"Mine too Merlin," confessed Gaius. "I suspect even the wisest of magical scholars would have difficulty understanding this."

Merlin made no answer, just continued to lie there with his head on the table, trying to block out all of the confusion and worry that was swimming around in his mind. He wanted nothing more than for all of this to just be _over._

"How does it go with Morgana?" Gaius asked hesitantly.

Merlin raised his head from the table.

"I tried talking to her. I couldn't be too obvious, at least at first while she still doesn't trust me. She's really full of hate, Gaius. I want to get through to her, I _know_ I can, but I just don't know how!"

Gaius looked at him, looking slightly wary.

"Perhaps you just have to accept the fact that there's nothing you can do."

Merlin shook his head fiercely. "I can't just stand by and watch her destroy herself like this. I have to try something!"

Gaius opened his mouth to say something, when the Warning Bell suddenly started ringing out over the city, signalling imminent danger.

Gaius looked at Merlin in shock.

"Are the Wandrian planning to attack?"

Merlin stood up, his blood pumping furiously. "I don't think so; they would have said something to me!"

Gaius still looked worried. "Then what is it?"

Merlin didn't answer him, but just raced out of their chambers and into the darkness of the courtyard, where several Knights were congregating.

"What's going on?" Merlin yelled.

Leon turned around and faced him, his face severe.

"Wandrian," he said simply.

At that moment, Arthur and Gwaine came pelting out of the front doors and raced over to the Knights, where servants rushed forward to provide them with horses.

"Sire!" An out-of-breath scout came running up. "There's a sorcerer in the woods around Camelot. I watched him appear in the forest myself by magic. We went off in pursuit, but he's fast. He matched Sir Gwaine's description of Emrys."

Merlin's heart froze. _Gehola._

"Thank you," said Arthur gruffly, pulling himself on his horse.

Merlin made a motion to get himself one and ride out with them, but Arthur stopped him.

"Don't even think about it Merlin," he said firmly.

Merlin tried to protest; he _had _to go out there! Gehola was in danger from being captured; he had to try and keep them away!

"_No,_" Arthur said. "You're far too weak to be of any use. Stay here."

And without another word, he had ridden off towards the outer gates, his Knights following behind him.

Merlin stood still for a few seconds, his panic mounting. What was he going to do?

He turned around and grabbed a horse from a stable-boy and mounted it with difficulty, still being weak.

"Merlin!" one of the stable-boys yelled at him. "You can't! The Prince said-"

"Yeah, well, when do I ever listen to the prince?" Merlin responded, before galloping out through the city, hoping against hope he could find Gehola before Arthur did.

* * *

Gehola ran through the forest, his heart racing and his breathing erratic, fear increasing with every second. He daren't stop, the soldiers from Camelot's patrol were still after him, and he suspected they had sent for reinforcements from the city.

Why did he have to come here? He had been a fool! He had thought he could be useful to Emrys by coming to him of his own accord instead of having him come to the Wandrian which made him weak.

Instead, he'd just made things worse.

He could magic himself away, but for that he'd have to stand still for a moment, in order for the spell to work, and he knew the soldiers after him would catch him.

His panic grew and grew. What would they do to him if he was caught? Would he be burned at the stake like his parents were?

He launched himself over a log, but lost his balance, and ended up falling, rolling down a steep hill. He finally stopped falling, and lay there on the hard ground, gasping for breath, his limbs shaking from exertion, a sharp pain in his ankle. What was the point now? He could never outrun them; he had no energy left for running or for magic.

He heard hooves on the ground as a rider approached. He didn't even try to evade him. It was only a matter of time anyway.

"_Gehola!_" a voice hissed at him.

Gehola sat bolt upright. Merlin was dismounting a horse in front of him, and rushing over to pull him to his feet.

"Merlin!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping you of course," he answered, helping to steady Gehola on his feet.

"You shouldn't be here."

"Yes, I should," Merlin said firmly. "Can you walk? We have to get you out of here, Arthur and the Knights have come searching for you."

Gehola groaned, fear almost stopping his heart. "I can't, I've hurt my ankle. You'll have to go without me."

"No," said Merlin. "I'm not leaving you. Come, I'll get you onto the horse. I'll lead them off somewhere else."

Gehola looked at it apprehensively. "I've never ridden a horse before."

"It's easy," said Merlin, helping Gehola hop away. "Just sit there and let it do all the work."

But Gehola turned to look at him. "But what about you? What if they catch you?"

"Don't worry about me," said Merlin. "I'll just tell Arthur some silly lie about wanting to help and ending up getting lost. He'll buy it, he always does."

Gehola bit his lip, but Merlin started pulling him more forcefully over to the horse, apparently in a rush.

They'd almost made it when-

"Merlin!"

* * *

Merlin whirled around to see Arthur and his Knights approach them out of the forest, looks of shock on each of their faces, as they took in the sight of Merlin with 'Emrys'' arm around his neck, supporting himself.

Merlin's heart went into his throat. What was he to do!?

Arthur simply stared at him, his face a mixture of incredulity, shock, betrayal and even a little fear.

Merlin started breathing rapidly. _Think of something, quick!_

But no matter what way he thought about it, he couldn't explain this, there was no way he could protect Gehola.

Arthur jumped off his horse, and moved towards the two of them, his sword drawn.

"Don't Arthur," Merlin pleaded, desperately seeking a way out.

Arthur's eyes widened.

"Merlin what are you doing!?" he shouted, his face torn. "Get away from him!"

Merlin glanced at Gehola, who was staring at the sword in Arthur's hand with a look of pure terror.

Merlin looked back at Arthur. His face was angry, and he held his sword out in front of him, pointing it straight at Gehola's heart.

He looked at the other Knights, whose swords were also drawn, staring at him in astonishment.

Merlin looked back at Arthur.

He could see no other option.

"Arthur, don't please," he said quietly, desperately. "He isn't who you think he is."

* * *

Arthur stared straight at Merlin hardly believing what he was seeing; Merlin _helping_ Emrys, pleading for his life! He knew Merlin had a soft heart, but this was ludicrous.

"Are you insane Merlin?!" he shouted, not bothering to conceal his anger or sense of betrayal. "Why are you protecting him? He's Emrys!"

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, his face draining of emotion, leaving it a mask of cold indifference. He looked at Arthur straight on, not flinching or looking remotely ashamed.

Arthur felt his heart leap. Merlin had _never _looked at him like that before.

Then Merlin smiled a cold smile that Arthur would never have believed Merlin could produce. Gone was his gawky manservant, he almost looked dangerous.

"No, Arthur," he said in a quiet, cold voice, so unlike Merlin's. "_I _am Emrys".

Arthur barely had time to freeze in shock, before Merlin started to shout in a harsh guttural language.

"_Brūcan mec tō Wandrian!"_

Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and the sight of it seemed to burn into Arthur's very soul.

And then he was gone. 

* * *

**A/N: Ooohh ... am I evil? ;)**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Well, here's my weekly update! Sorry for the cliffy last chapter hehe ;)**

**Not much happening here, but I thought I really needed this chapter to fully explore what would be going on with Arthur and the Knights when they discovered the 'truth' about Merlin.**

* * *

Arthur and his Knights rode in silence back to the castle. No one spoke. No one tried to laugh or make suggestions. None of them could.

Arthur sat rigidly on his horse, eyes straight ahead, not really seeing anything, trying to block out the image of what he had just seen.

He replayed it over and over in his mind, yet every time he saw it, it just seemed more and more ridiculous.

It just couldn't be … Merlin.

Merlin … was Emrys.

His body was still, oddly calm, but his mind was in turmoil. How could this be?

He knew he ought to feel angry, betrayed, but all he could feel was shock, at least until it all sank in and stopped feeling like it was all some terrible dream.

But he'd seen it, heard it, as Merlin declared himself to be Emrys. He'd seen his manservant's mouth move as he uttered those terrible words: _I am Emrys._

If that was all, Arthur could have dismissed it as him being his ridiculous noble self, trying to protect someone. But Arthur had seen his face, his eyes, the way Merlin had looked at him, so cold and unfeeling, so different. And then his eyes … golden, as they summoned the magic Arthur could never have dreamed the servant possessed.

Arthur felt his breath catch in his throat. Merlin was a sorcerer. Merlin was Emrys. He was a traitor to Arthur and all of Camelot.

Arthur grasped his horse's reins tighter. This just couldn't be true. The walls of Camelot loomed ever closer.

They'd ride in to the city, and Merlin would still be there, annoyed that they'd left him behind, offering his usual sarcastic remarks. He _had_ to be there.

Because how could Merlin of all people …

How long … how long had Merlin been practising …_magic?_ The very word made Arthur cringe. Magic and Merlin just weren't meant to be together.

Perhaps it was just all some ridiculous mistake. Maybe he was possessed by something; enchanted … that sort of thing had happened before hadn't it?

But the more Arthur thought, the more it horrifyingly began to make sense. The strange way Merlin had been acting these last weeks, the information about the spy of the Wandrian being in the court, the way Camelot was being attacked again and again …

And before that, Merlin had always been odd; he'd always been hiding something. Arthur had just accepted that fact as one of Merlin's many eccentricities. He'd never sought to explore it. Perhaps he should have …

How Merlin always managed to escape from bandits without even a scratch, how everything conveniently seemed to go his way, the Great Dragon mysteriously escaping from Camelot …

How could he have been so stupid!

But why? Why would Merlin do this?

Why come to Camelot to live there for several years if he was a sorcerer? Had he been planning this the entire time?

How was he to explain this? Gaius … his mother …

Arthur and the Knights rode through the main gates of Camelot. Arthur didn't even look at his Knights; he couldn't bear to see the looks on their faces. It was just another conformation of the fact that the impossible had happened.

Again and again he went back to the old question: How could Merlin have magic?

Arthur felt a coldness edge down his spine as he remembered the way Merlin had looked at him before disappearing. That wasn't Merlin.

He couldn't deal with this. Not now, not after everything, not _Merlin._ Was everything they'd shared a huge lie? The laughter, the advice, the friendship …

They soon arrived at the main courtyard. Arthur dismounted from his horse almost mechanically and looked around.

Merlin wasn't here.

Guinevere came rushing out from somewhere, looking frantic.

"What's going on? What happened?" she asked desperately.

Arthur couldn't look at her. Elyan moved over to her, and spoke a few words to her in a quiet tone, his face grave.

Gwen's eyes widened and she backed off in horror. "No …" she said, her voice weak. "No it can't be! Not Merlin!"

The sheer desperation in her voice stuck Arthur down to his very core, the epitome of what he himself was feeling. Her cries rang in his ears. Merlin …Merlin had betrayed them. The one they had all thought of as a friend.

He glanced back around the courtyard, noticing Gaius standing there, watching, his face crumpled in despair.

Arthur looked at the stables; Merlin's horse was gone.

He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. He was their enemy.

And something within him snapped. He was angry. Angry at Merlin for his betrayal, but even more so at himself for being so oblivious.

As ridiculous as it still sounded in his ears, Merlin was a traitor, and a sorcerer.

And Arthur felt as though a whole part of himself had just dropped away.

* * *

"Come," said Arthur, in an emotionless tone, speaking for the first time since leaving the clearing.

Gwaine looked at him, and saw the pain and hurt in his eyes. He felt it in his own heart.

Gwaine and the others followed him into the palace, leaving a shocked and distraught Gwen to be consoled by Gaius, who himself looked like he was lost in some sort of bad dream.

Gwaine felt a pang of pity for the old man; what must he be going through right now? His ward, the boy he regarded as his own son had betrayed him, betrayed them all.

Gwaine walked behind Arthur, feeling numb. How could Merlin have done that? How could this possibly be?

How could he have been so stupid? Merlin had been Emrys all along! And he'd been fooled into believing Merlin was helping them! He'd discussed it with him! Warned him against associating with Emrys! And all the while …

When Gwaine had saw Merlin there with that other man, his heart had all but stopped. He'd still believed the other one to be Emrys, and was afraid that Merlin's role as a double-agent was about to be compromised. It turned out more than that had happened.

The fact that Merlin was a- a sorcerer, didn't bother him half as much as the fact that he was Emrys. Gwaine had grown up in a kingdom where magic was tolerated; he knew the good it could do. But this, this was different. Merlin had admitted to being the murderous sorcerer they'd been after for weeks. The way he'd acted … that wasn't the Merlin they all knew. It was Emrys.

But still something seemed strange to him. Merlin hadn't been faking that illness. The Wandrian really had affected him badly, so why was he with them? Merlin had reassured him again and again that he knew what he was doing, and it was for the good of Camelot. Gwaine had always prided himself on knowing when he was being lied to, and he hadn't believed that of Merlin.

Were his acting skills really that exemplary? Or was there more to all of this?

But still, Gwaine couldn't deny the way Merlin had behaved in the woods, the magic he had used to ferry away the man from the Wandrian had been clear to them all.

And what of Lancelot? Gwaine turned to look at him. Lancelot walked with the gait of a wary man, and his eyes were alert, his face grave … but he didn't look as shocked as the rest of them. Gwaine frowned; did Lancelot know more than he was letting on?

At that moment they emerged into the Council Chambers. Arthur walked straight in and stood in the middle of the room, unmoving. Gwaine and the Knights gathered around him, waiting.

Eventually, Arthur turned around. The emotionless mask on his face, which had been there since Merlin's disappearance finally seemed to be slipping, and his jaw was shaking, whether from anger or hurt, Gwaine couldn't tell.

Arthur looked around at them all, eyeing them very closely. He looked at a loss of what to say.

He finally fixed his gaze on Percival. "It seemed you were right Percival. Your suspicions of Merlin's loyalty were correct." His voice was even, with no hint of the tumultuous emotion that lay behind his eyes.

Percival frowned, his face twisted. "Believe me Sire, it gives me no pleasure. I may have expressed my doubts, but I could never for one moment have anticipated this."

Arthur laughed a hollow and almost cold laugh. "Who could?"

He fell silent again, looking at the floor as though composing himself, before lifting his gaze and staring straight at Gwaine, almost accusingly.

"You knew," he said simply. He looked at Lancelot. "And so did you."

The other Knights turned to stare at them in renewed shock. Arthur continued.

"You both told me you knew what was making Merlin act so strangely. You were about to tell me Gwaine before we rode out. And you Lancelot, I had believed that you would have told me if things had gotten serious. Both of you knew what was going on, and kept it a secret." He looked at them, a slight hint of anger in his eyes. "Explain."

Gwaine opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss. How could he explain this to him?

"We didn't know the whole of it Sire," said Lancelot dully.

Arthur looked at him sharply. "What's that supposed to mean? That you knew he was with the Wandrian but not that he was a sorcerer?"

Gwaine and Lancelot exchanged a glance. Arthur noticed, and his expression turned to incredulity.

"That was the truth wasn't it?" he asked. "You _knew!?"_

"Sire," said Gwaine stepping forward. "We knew he was working with the Wandrian, but we thought he was on our side. He told us he was working against them and trying to help protect Camelot by feeding us information."

Arthur and the other Knights stared at him. "You believed that?" asked Arthur faintly.

"We had no reason not to Sire," said Lancelot. "It was Merlin. We trusted him completely."

Arthur shook his head, his face screwing up as he listened.

"So would I," Arthur said, his voice wrought with emotion. "I would have believed him."

The room fell into silence for a moment; no one knew what to say.

Arthur looked at Gwaine again. "But you didn't did you? Trust him completely? You were going to tell me."

Gwaine sighed. "I was. I believed he was trying to help us all these weeks. I told myself he was working for us, and that he was suffering because of it. I thought he was being brave. But recently … I began to worry that he was being affected by the Dark Magic, that he was turning against us. I was going to tell you that. But I never for one moment thought he could be Emrys himself."

"You saw him didn't you?" asked Percival. "That night when the prisoner escaped. Merlin was there with that other man helping the prisoner."

Gwaine nodded. "I did. But I thought the other man was Emrys."

"Who was the other man?" Elyan asked.

Gwaine shook his head. "I don't know. Merlin let me believe that the other man was Emrys, and that he'd called on Merlin to help him break him in to Camelot. It was the same man who was in the woods just now."

"You didn't suspect?" Leon asked, coldly. "You didn't for one moment suspect that Merlin would be using magic?"

Gwaine bristled. "Would you have? I admit, there were a couple of times when I may have suspected something like that was going on. But I always dismissed it. It seemed too ridiculous to imagine."

Arthur nodded, obviously thinking the same thing. He turned to Lancelot.

"And you were the same?"

Lancelot nodded. "I believed I had the situation under control. He said he didn't want to tell you, that you wouldn't trust him. So I tried to help him as much as I could. I thought I was helping Camelot."

Arthur looked away from Lancelot. But Gwaine continued staring at him. Was there something that he was hiding?

"He has fooled all of us," said Arthur, his tone hard. "None of us could have believed this was possible. How he must have laughed at our stupidity … "

He broke off, looking pained for a moment, before his face hardened once again. "But we mustn't let this bring us to a halt. I refuse to find myself in the same position I was when Morgana betrayed me. I was a mess then, but now there is more at stake. Merlin knows Camelot inside out; he had access to most of our secret meetings. We have to come up with a plan of action. We need to know just what he plans to do, how powerful he is."

Arthur smiled wryly. "I never thought I would have to question Merlin's power. I never thought I would ever need to have this discussion."

"We can't underestimate him Sire just because we thought we knew him," said Percival. "The prophecies spoke of his power, and we have to accept the fact he may have been concealing all that power from us for a long time."

Gwaine nodded, still feeling numb as he thought about this. "The power is in his blood."

Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gwaine hesitated for a second before answering. "His father was a Dragonlord."

Gwaine had thought Arthur's face couldn't look more shocked or incredulous than it already was, but he was wrong.

"A Dragonlord?" he breathed, his eyes wide. He blinked, and a look of comprehension came over his features. "Balinor?"

Gwaine nodded.

Arthur laughed humourlessly. "And why didn't you tell me this at least Gwaine?"

"I didn't think it was important Sire," Gwaine said.

"Didn't think it was important?" roared Arthur, his anger finally revealing itself. "What else did you and Lancelot think wasn't important enough to tell me?"

"I didn't think it was important," Gwaine repeated, defending himself. "I didn't feel it was fair to judge a man for what his father was."

Gwaine purposefully left out the fact that his own father had saved Balinor's life- he thought it might make Arthur explode. Gwaine felt another blow as he remembered when he'd given Merlin that dragon's tooth; he'd thought it had been a special moment between the pair of them, a symbol of their friendship. Apparently he had been wrong.

"What happens to a Dragonlord's power when he dies?" asked Elyan, before Arthur could resume shouting at Gwaine.

"I had always heard it was passed from father to son," said Percival, almost hesitatingly.

Arthur closed his eyes in defeat as he thought about this. "Of course, it makes sense. Merlin released the dragon from under Camelot, found he couldn't control it, and so went with me to find his father. He must have killed Balinor to gain the power, and returned to Camelot and sent the dragon away for his own purposes. He told me that I'd killed it, and even though there was no body, I believed him like the fool I was."

Gwaine frowned. That didn't sound like Merlin at all The way Merlin had always spoken about his father …

But he reminded himself, the Merlin he knew had never existed. It had all been one great lie.

He felt his breathing become heavier as the thought of this, and the sense of betrayal sunk in once again. Everything they had shared, none of it had been real.

Arthur opened his eyes again, and his emotionless mask was back again. "Merlin is Emrys. Merlin is no longer an ally of Camelot, the quicker we accept that the better. He is powerful, with the full might of the Wandrian and a dragon behind him, plus all the inside knowledge of Camelot. We must find a way to defeat them. "He glanced at Gwaine and Lancelot. "You don't know anything that would help us would you?"

Gwaine spoke, dreading what he was going to say. "What Merlin told us is basically what we already know. They seek to open the Portal, to unleash the darkness that's beyond it."

Arthur nodded. "I thought they needed this 'Prophesied One' to do that?"

Gwaine grimaced. "They already have her on side. Sire, it's … Morgana."

Arthur stared at him for several moments, his face blank.

He nodded and turned away from them all.

"You should all go and get some rest. We have much to do."

"Sire," said Elyan hesitatingly. "This still doesn't make sense to me. Why would Merlin stay in Camelot all these years if he was seeking to destroy it? He's had plenty opportunities to kill us before now, sometimes he's even risked his own life to do so. Why would he have done that if he was truly evil?"

Gwaine had to admit, it was a good question. That whole business with Merlin rushing off to the Perilous Lands after Arthur, risking everything to help Arthur take back Camelot from Morgana .. if he had been truly evil why wouldn't he have just let Arthur die, or join with Morgana back then?

But Gwaine remembered the last conversation he'd had with Merlin. He'd been different, he'd insisted Morgana was not evil … he was obviously trying to get out of killing her- after all, she was his ally. Merlin had snapped at him, shouted at Arthur, were those his true colours?

He looked at Arthur to see what he would say to this. Arthur didn't even turn around.

"Don't ask me how the mind of a sorcerer works Elyan," he said, trying to sound cold and indifferent, but Gwaine could feel the pain behind his voice. "You saw yourself. Merlin used magic, Merlin admitted to being Emrys. That's all there is to it. Merlin betrayed us."

His voice broke as he said this last sentence.

Gwaine and the other Knights exchanged glances, and without speaking, turned and left the room, each of their own minds buzzing with questions and mixed emotions.

Gwaine glanced back to see Arthur still alone in the hall, making no move to leave.

_Merlin, what have you done?  
_

* * *

Merlin sat beneath the tree, the tree of the Old Religion in the realm of the Wandrian, hugging his knees to his chest and staring straight ahead. _What had he done?_

Arthur's face …

What had he been thinking? He could have gotten out of it! Instead, he had to go and be an idiot as usual and reveal his greatest secret to the people he cared about. What must they be thinking of him?

Had it been the right thing to do?

"I'm sorry," a voice sniffed beside him. Merlin looked around at Gehola who sat beside him, a look of misery on his face. "It was my fault. I got myself in that situation. If I wasn't such an idiot you wouldn't have had to do that."

Merlin felt a tiny surge of anger. It was the truth; he'd done it to protect Gehola. If it hadn't been for him …

No, he told himself. There's no point in blaming him. It wasn't Gehola's fault.

"No," he said. "It was going to happen anyway. Don't blame yourself."

Gehola didn't look convinced. It was inevitable, thought Merlin. Gwaine was becoming suspicious of him. He couldn't have kept his deception up for much longer. He just wished he hadn't had to do that to them. The betrayal, the hurt, the anger … he was doing this for them, to protect them, but now … they hated him.

He closed his eyes as the emotions welled up inside of him. What was he going to do now? How could he possibly protect them? And what would the Wandrian do to him now that he was no more use as a spy? How could he possibly manage to maintain the illusion of being on their side?

He was in a mess, the greatest one he had ever been in in his life.

He sat underneath that tree with Gehola for what felt like hours. He sat rigidly, never releasing the vice like grip he had around his legs as he hugged them to his chest. He needed to think of a plan. Somehow he had to be able to continue helping to protect Camelot whilst being on the run.

But how?

He tried to think, but every time he did, all he could see was Arthur's face as he looked at him in shock and horror.

He'd wanted for so long for Arthur to know about his magic. But he'd never wanted it to be like this. The way he'd looked at him …

It had cut him more deeply than he could have imagined. It had pained him so much that he'd almost not gone through with it. But something had kept him going, helped keep him looking coldly at his friends, no matter how much it was hurting him.

They must all hate him now. How was he ever to convince them he was doing this for them? Would they ever forgive him?

Merlin sniffed, and tried to keep back the flow of water that threatened to spill from his eyes.

Why would they? He was a traitor to Camelot in their eyes.

Would he ever get to go back? Would they hate him forever?

Well, it didn't matter he thought. Regardless of what they thought, he was determined that he wouldn't rest until the Wandrian had been destroyed and Camelot saved.

It was the least he could do.

He was the only one able to do this. And he would not fail.

He would never forget his loyalty to Camelot.

He just hoped Arthur would one day realise that.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter this time next week :)**

**I'd greatly appreciate reviews, I don't really feel I've been writing at my best for the last few chapters :/  
**

**Constructive criticism is welcome! :)  
**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: *peeks out nervously* Is anyone still there? I wouldn't blame you if you weren't. I started this story two years ago whilst still in high school and it's still not done! All I can say, is a massive sorry! The really nasty reviews and stuff were just really getting me down so I kind of abandoned this fic for something else. But now I've got a bit of confidence back and I thought I'd give it another go and hope some of you will give me another chance! Hope you enjoy, and forgive me for my appalling behaviour! :)**

* * *

"They know?" Hafela asked with an evil gleam in his black eyes. "You revealed yourself to them just like that?"

"I did," said Merlin, willing himself to appear unaffected and calm. "I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like that."

"Foolish boy!" hissed Wrecan from a corner. "What use are you now? How can we hope to gain the information we need?"

"All isn't lost," Merlin said firmly. "I have a plan."

"What?" asked Morgana, sitting at an ornate table and all but glaring at Merlin. "The only thing we had to our advantage was Arthur's blind trust in you. What can we do now that he's seen your true colours?"

Merlin tried not to show the sadness he felt at these words and continued with his calm tone.

"Not all of them will believe what they have seen," Merlin said, desperately trying to come up with a way to convince them of his worth before they suspected him. "I have a friend among the Knights who knows of my abilities who I can persuade to think I am really on their side. He will believe me, and I will continue to have a foothold in the private dealings within the Court."

Hafela raised his eyebrows. "This Knight will believe you?"

"I can be pretty convincing when I need to be," Merlin said, trying not to laugh at the irony. "I'll give him some sob story about being forced into working for you. He won't suspect a thing."

"Perhaps," said Wrecan. "And how do we know that you can be trusted now when you have thrown away our greatest advantage?"

"There is no going back for me now," Merlin said flatly, knowing too well just how truthful he was now being. "I have given up my comfortable existence in Camelot and revealed myself openly. What further proof do you need of my devotion to your cause?"

Hafela smiled, and Merlin caught a glimpse of the rotten mass that was his tongue. "You make a good point, Emrys. See what you can procure with your dealings with this Knight; all may not be lost."

He swept across the room and exited, followed by the other Elders Gamol and Wrecan. Merlin began to follow, his heart heavy, when he caught sight of Morgana rising from the table. She was looking at Merlin strangely.

"One of the Knights knows your identity?" she asked, her voice wavering between anger and what Merlin suspected might be hurt. "You told one of them but refused to help me in my hour of need?"

"He only found out by accident," Merlin said truthfully. "But it was your own fault that I chose not to place my trust in you. Your actions were so reckless and ill-considered that I feared what would happen. I did not know what path you would take."

Morgana's eyes flashed in anger. "I deserved to be given the chance!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that if I had told you, you may have made a different choice? That you regret now what you felt you had to do then?"

Morgana's face drained of anger, and for the briefest of moments looked only confused. Then, the emotionless mask was back.

"I regret nothing," she declared, and swept out of the room without another look back.

Merlin sighed and found himself sinking back into the chair she had just vacated. Every time he thought he might be able to get through to her there was always something within her that rejected it.

He felt numb all over, as though not everything had quite sunk in yet. Arthur was, at this very moment, sitting in Camelot hating his guts. It was almost too much to comprehend.

Merlin stood slowly and moved over to the window and surveyed the land of the Wandrian that lay before him. The little shacks containing the Dark Magic ravaged villagers were a flurry of activity. Merlin could almost smell the stench of that magic from this distance.

He slipped a hand into his pocket and clenched his fist around the dragon's tooth Gwaine had given him. Now, more than ever, he needed it.

He was stranded here; stuck with these crazed men and women until he could find a way to save the city that now cursed his name. There was no escaping the darkness now.

He closed his eyes. He only hoped it was not too late.

Gwaine pushed back his half eaten dinner and sighed. He looked around the table and saw that he was not the only one without an appetite. All of the Knights had hardly touched their food and Arthur not at all as he poured over countless maps searching for this evil Portal thing.

It had now been twenty-four hours since Merlin's … betrayal, and it hurt Gwaine no less now than it had then.

Yet, for all the pain he was feeling, there was something that just seemed so wrong about the entire situation. He tried to tell himself that it was only his disbelief speaking, but there was some great nagging feeling that there was something missing.

He'd seen Merlin's face when he'd revealed his identity, and it had shown nothing except malevolence. But he also remembered the sad look in his eyes as he had spoken about his father, the strain that had showed on his face every day and his heartfelt pleas for Gwaine to trust him, his insistence that he knew what he was doing. And all the laughter, the camaraderie … there was no way on earth it had all been faked. Gwaine just couldn't believe it.

For the first time in his life, Gwaine found himself well and truly conflicted. He could not deny that which he had seen for himself, yet, he could also not deny what he knew in his heart. Merlin was not evil.

Had he been being controlled somehow by the real Emrys, forced into saying those things? Had that even been the real Merlin?

Or more fantastically still, was Merlin really Emrys yet still on their side? Emrys had killed no one, had as of yet made no aggressive move on Camelot despite ample opportunity. They'd stolen some of Camelot's grain supplies, yes, but Merlin had been replacing them! Looking back now, he must have done it using magic. Why would Emrys go to the trouble of trying to weaken Camelot through starvation, only to continually replenish the city's food supplies in private? It made no sense!

Gwaine rubbed his temples trying to ease the splitting headache that hadn't gone away all day. He thought about going to see Gaius for some sort of remedy, or the tavern for that matter. Either would do.

Struck by a new thought, Gwaine raised his head and watched Gaius out of the corner of his eye, whom Arthur had requested dine with them from now on, probably out of concern for the effect his ward's betrayal would have on him. He was sitting beside Lancelot, and there was something about the two of them that held Gwaine's suspicion.

Both looked worried and as if under great strain, but neither had the same despairing look of betrayal in their eyes that everyone else had. Every so often, they'd meet each other's eyes and exchange a grim nod, as though acknowledging something.

Gwaine frowned. What was going on there?

Merlin- _Emrys,_ had said that there were things about the situation that only Lancelot knew, and Gwaine would be willing to bet all the ale in the world that Gaius was also privy to that information. Was there something they were concealing?

At that moment, the doors to the chambers burst open and a breathless guard came sprinting in.

"Well?" Arthur asked in a toneless voice.

The soldier doubled up as he tried to catch his breath.

"There was another attack on the supply wagons. I've just come from there. All of it is gone, Sire."

Arthur nodded. "And who was leading this attack?"

The guard hesitated and bit his lip.

"It was … well, Sire, strangely … it looked like … looked like … that servant of yours … can't remember his name. I could have sworn it was him!"

Arthur watched the man expressionlessly. The Knights looked worried; Arthur had not yet made it public knowledge who Emrys was, fearing it would incite mass panic to know that someone so close to the Prince had turned against them. But now it seemed it could be concealed no longer.

The guard looked confused at the lack of expression on his prince's face.

"It wasn't him was it? It can't have been! He was using magic! I saw him, clear as day."

"I don't doubt it."

The soldier gasped in realisation. "Now it all makes sense, Sire!"

"What does?"

"The message he gave me to give to you … he said … he said: '_Trust is a powerful thing. The people of Camelot know that now more than ever; blind faith will lead them to their destiny."_

At these words, Lancelot and Gaius looked at each other sharply, and some meaningful look passed between them that Gwaine could not interpret. Was it worry? Fear? Hope?

Arthur closed his eyes at these words. "Now he seeks to goad me …" he said quietly. "In that he has not changed."

He opened his eyes again. "How many were killed?"

Gwaine flinched as Arthur asked, but the soldier looked even more confused.

"None, Sire. Everyone was unharmed."

Arthur's eyes widened a little, but he motioned for the soldier to be dismissed. As soon as he'd closed the massive doors behind him, he turned to his Knights.

"I don't understand," he began. "Merlin's come into the open now; why won't he use Dark Magic and kill people? He doesn't have to hide anymore!"

"I think we should be grateful," murmured Lancelot, not looking at Arthur.

"No," said Percival. "It's suspicious. What is he planning? There must be a reason."

"Maybe he just doesn't want to use Dark Magic," said Elyan. "Maybe the only reason he didn't use it before wasn't because it would be too noticeable. We've all seen what Dark Magic does to a man. He won't want to ruin his body like that."

Gwaine had a sudden image of Merlin like that man from the Wandrian they had captured, pitch black eyes, rotten skin, putrid flesh …

"Maybe he sees himself as superior to them," said Percival. "He doesn't want anything to do with their magic, he just wants the power and influence he can have by leading them."

"But he doesn't lead them," said Gwaine. "That Hafela man does, Merlin's under his employ. The prisoner I interrogated told me there was a lot of tension between the Elders of the Wandrian and Emrys himself. No matter what way I look at it, I just can't figure out what's going on with them."

"I doubt we ever shall," said Arthur heavily. He stood up. "Leon, I want you and Elyan to work on reviewing the ration plans for the city and compensate for the new losses this evening. Lancelot, Percival, I want the two of you to change all the supply routes and guard patterns and anything else Merlin knows about. Change everything. We can't continue to let him have this advantage. Dismissed."

And with that, he stormed out of the dining chambers, leaving his own food untouched. Everyone exchanged gloomy glances before standing up to follow him.

Gwaine watched carefully as Lancelot left, noting as he did so how different Lancelot was looking from everyone else.

He had to get some answers.

* * *

Lancelot's thoughts whizzed around his mind at lightning speed as he went over the events of the previous evening again and again.

What had Merlin been thinking of? There had been no need to reveal himself like that! He and Gwaine could easily have come up with some alternate explanation! Couldn't they?

Lancelot was sick with worry for Merlin. What must he be going through right now? How was he going to cope now that he was permanently relegated to that evil place? Would the Wandrian even have any further use for him?

Watching everyone else and the pain they were experiencing as they thought of Merlin pierced Lancelot like a knife. _If only they knew …_

Merlin's message had been somewhat ambiguous, but Lancelot knew it to mean that Merlin was asking him and Gaius to still have faith in him, to not worry, he would continue in his mission to protect Camelot. To the others it had only seemed gloating.

He emerged into the courtyard, growing dim in the early evening. He breathed some fresh air, trying to make sense of his thoughts. How was Merlin supposed to help Camelot? How could he? Lancelot himself would have to try and get involved, he was the only one able to-

"Lancelot?"

Lancelot started as he heard a soft voice calling him. He turned to see Gwen walking towards him out of the semi-darkness. She was frowning, but not in bewilderment or anger like the others, only slight confusion.

He forced a smile to his face as he looked at her.

"My lady?"

Unusually, Gwen didn't try to reprimand him for using her formal title. She had more important things on her mind.

"I can't believe it, Lancelot," she said immediately, searching his face. "I can't believe it."

Lancelot forced himself to lie to her, as much as it repulsed him.

"None of us can.''

She shook her head. "No, I _really_ can't. I've thought it over again and again and something doesn't add up. Merlin's a sorcerer, that much I can accept; looking back there have been so many hints and clues I'm amazed I didn't notice before. But evil? I don't believe it, Lancelot. I can't."

In spite of himself, Lancelot felt a small stirring of pride deep within himself. Of course she wouldn't, Gwen saw things other people didn't. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that she had caught the true essence of the situation. Yet, it tormented him that he couldn't tell her how right she was.

"I saw him with my own eyes," he said. "He admitted being Emrys."

"But does that make him evil?" Gwen asked desperately, stepping closer to Lancelot in her eagerness. "Emrys has never killed anyone, he doesn't use Dark Magic! Merlin's been suffering these last few weeks, he's been afraid and worried. That isn't a bloodthirsty killer. I nursed him during his fevers, all he shouted about in his deliriums was making sure all his friends were safe, all he wanted to do was to protect them! Was that faked as well? I can't believe that."

For a moment, Lancelot was without words. He hesitated, wondering if he should reveal all to her here and now. Didn't she deserve it?

She seemed to see something of this in his eyes. She stepped even closer.

"You know something don't you?" she asked, searching his face. "There's something you're not telling me."

Lancelot looked down at her, unnerved by her proximity.

"Not everything is as it seems," he said, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"You mean-"

"Lancelot!"

Lancelot internally cursed Sir Gwaine with every curse he knew as he turned and saw him hurrying down the courtyard to join him. He looked between Lancelot and Gwen.

"Could I talk to Lancelot in private?" he asked Gwen. She bit her lip and looked back up at him, obviously desperate to continue their conversation, but she nodded and walked away, however reluctantly.

Gwaine wasted no time. He seized Lancelot by the arm and dragged him over to a shadowy alcove, none too gently.

"Tell me," Gwaine demanded as soon as they were alone. His face was inches away from Lancelot's and his eyes were fierce. "Tell me."

"What exactly?" Lancelot asked, though he knew full well what he was referring to.

Gwaine made a noise of frustration. "Just tell me! Tell me whatever it is that you and Gaius are keeping from Arthur! And don't try to pretend that there isn't anything, I'm not stupid. Don't lie to me any more Lancelot! What is it you're trying to hide? Don't we all deserve to know?"

Lancelot opened and closed his mouth for a couple of moments, completely at a loss. "I can't-"

"Don't you _dare_ say that! Tell me!"

Lancelot looked at Gwaine and saw nothing but a quiet desperation there. How badly he wanted to reveal all.

Gwaine's face darkened. "Fine, since you won't say anything, at least let me hazard a guess." He looked at Lancelot for a long moment. "You knew all along didn't you? You knew about Merlin's magic."

It was more of a statement than a question, and Lancelot found himself unable to deny it. Silently, he nodded.

Gwaine cursed and turned away.

"You _knew_?" he asked. "And all this time the two of you were playing us? Pretending to be ignorant? Laughing at us?"

"No," said Lancelot, firmly.

"Then why didn't you say anything?" Gwaine demanded. "If you knew Merlin was using magic why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't believe it posed a threat."

Gwaine looked incredulous. "Didn't believe it posed a threat?" he repeated faintly.

He shook his head and began pacing up and down. "You believed him, Lancelot? You helped him knowing he was a sorcerer? How could you?"

Lancelot felt an indignant flame ignite within him. "Not all magic is bad, Gwaine. I thought you understood that."

Gwaine stopped his pacing. "This magic is, Lancelot. This is pure evil."

"Merlin doesn't use it," Lancelot said firmly, his faith in Merlin ever growing stronger. "He's never used Dark Magic and never will. I never saw him harm a single innocent person using his magic."

Gwaine's face paled in shock. "What are you saying, Lancelot? That Merlin is still on our side?"

"I'm not about to tell you, Gwaine," Lancelot answered. "That's for you to decide. What do you think? Remember his message; sometimes blind faith is the right way to go. Especially when it involves a friend."

Lancelot moved out from the alcove and looked back at Gwaine. "You know the answer, Gwaine. You wouldn't have sought me out otherwise. Trust in your instincts."

He tuned and headed back across the dark courtyard leaving Gwaine standing in the same position.

_Please Gwaine, see the truth like Gwen does. Merlin needs all the help he can get._

* * *

Morgana was silently fuming. She paced up and down in front of the castle trying to contain her anger. Merlin had told someone. One of the others in Camelot had known of his magic and yet he hadn't had the decency to confide in her.

She wasn't sure why exactly she was so angry, only that she felt humiliated. He'd told someone else, someone who was now his enemy, yet he hadn't told her, she who could have been his ally.

She set out at a brisk walk away from the castle and found herself wandering in amongst the dead trees. She kicked at rocks on her way. If Merlin had only told her …

Would she be here now? Would she have to put up with these pitiful excuses for people? Would she now be plotting the destruction of the city that used to be her home?

It didn't matter, she decided. Merlin hadn't told her. And now she was left with the consequences of the actions she had taken then.

She leaned against a dead tree and sighed. Samhain was still two weeks away. Until that day when she would help the Wandrian open the Portal she was stuck here with Hafela, Merlin and the others. Then she would be free to leave and be with her sister far away. Camelot would suffer, and she would be glad.

But no matter how many times she told herself that this was what she wanted, there was something that seemed not quite right. Was releasing the full might of Dark Magic into the world really what she wanted? It was evil, pure evil. It would destroy everything, corrupt everything. Did she really want to live in a world like that? She and Morgause alone would be safe on their haven on the Isle of the Blessed. But there they would be trapped. Was getting her revenge on Camelot worth that?

Of course it was.

She shook her head of these stupid thoughts. She couldn't go getting cold feet now. She had committed herself to this path now. She had to follow it through.

"Having second thoughts?"

Morgana jumped at the voice that sounded behind her. She turned to see Merlin leaning against a tree. He wasn't smirking, or looking smug. He just regarded her calmly with intense eyes.

"Of course not. Why would I?" Morgana answered too quickly, unnerved by his question.

"Because perhaps you have realised this is not the path you want to pursue?"

Morgana scowled. "You've tried this method before, Merlin. I won't let you try and unsettle me. I am perfectly certain."

He raised his eyebrows. "You didn't look so sure a couple of moments ago."

"Is this what the mighty Emrys has been reduced to?" she asked furiously. "Following people and asking stupid questions because he now has no other purpose?"

"I know what my purpose is, Morgana," he said. "And it is not in Camelot, it's right here."

She sneered. "You know, I think _you're_ the one who is having second thoughts. All these mysterious statements you've been making. How can I know you're really on our side?"

He smiled. "I am on your side, Morgana. But not the Wandrian's. I believe you are better than this."

She took a step back in confusion. "You mean, you don't want the Portal to be opened?"

He shook his head. "Preferably not. I don't particularly relish the idea of a world filled with this disgusting excuse for magic."

"Then why are you here?" Morgana asked, genuinely curious. "Why help the Wandrian if you don't want this to happen?"

"Because it suits my true purpose," Merlin said, taking a step closer.

"And what is that?" Morgana asked, her breath catching in her throat.

"Bringing you to reason," he said. "I want to turn you away from this destructive path, Morgana. I want you to come back into the light, and forget your vendetta against Camelot. To be proud of who you are and not hide away or lash out at the world. To prove to you that this isn't the only way. I have no intention of destroying Camelot."

Morgana watched him in amazement for a moment, completely shocked. Then, she laughed.

"You have admitted that your loyalty remains to Camelot," she said slowly. "That you have no intention of helping the Wandrian fulfill their plans. I should have known that you would never truly turn against that city. What will stop me from telling Hafela all of this?"

He smiled. "The hatred you bear for them, and the tiny little feeling inside of you that is telling you not to."

"You're placing an awful lot of faith in this! The Wandrian would destroy you if I were to tell them the truth!"

"But you won't," said Merlin. "You don't want the Portal opened either."

Morgana scoffed and turned away. "I want Camelot destroyed!"

"Do you?" asked Merlin heatedly. "Do you really want that?"

_No,_ the tiny voice inside of her said, but Morgana ignored it.

"They deserve to suffer!"

"Do they? Or do they deserve the chance to change? To make the land a place that will accept magic? The path you are following now will only make them fear it. You will never be free."

Morgana felt as if an ice cold fist was clenching around her heart as she realised the truth of what he was saying.

"We can change Camelot," Merlin urged from behind her, taking another step closer. "You and I can change the way they think, we can prove to them that magic can be good. The Wandrian are pure evil. We're better than them. Just give the two of us a chance, Morgana."

She turned slowly to look at him.

"Uther will never change."

"But Arthur might," Merlin said, his eyes earnest.

Morgana laughed. "Will he? Now that his beloved servant has shown him the dark secret he has been hiding?"

"We should try," Merlin said firmly, "before it is too late."

Morgana shook her head. "You're a fool, Merlin. It is already too late."

She turned away. "You'll see, Merlin. I won't waver in my destiny."

"Morgana-"

"You're lying to the Wandrian," Morgana interrupted. "You say one thing to them and another to me. You nourish a foolish hope. I don't know what you hope to achieve, but it is impossible. Camelot will never change. This is the only way."

Merlin sighed and fell back, his eyes downcast.

"You'll change your mind, Morgana. I know you will."

"I won't. And I won't tell the Wandrian either; I want you to watch as I open as I open the Portal and you realise that you were wrong. You won't stop me."

She started to walk away, her heart in her mouth, trying to sort through the torrent of emotions.

Merlin wanted her to turn away from the Wandrian, to try and reconcile with Camelot? The legendary Emrys was weak.

What he did really think would happen? That Arthur would welcome him back with open arms after he'd revealed himself to be a sorcerer? It was ridiculous. It could never happen. That opportunity was gone.

She wouldn't tell Hafela; she hated him almost as much as she hated Merlin. She didn't care whether or not Merlin was loyal to the Wandrian in his heart, she herself was only with them to get what she wanted. Merlin would end up disappointed. Merlin would stand back and do nothing, trusting in his foolish hope that she would change her mind when the moment came. She would exploit that weakness and open the Portal.

But before she had completely gone out of Merlin's sight, she heard him calling to her again.

"I'm sorry!"

Morgana stopped and froze in astonishment. What did he say?

She spun around and watched him coming closer. Her eyes never left his face.

"I'm sorry," Merlin repeated when he was within a few feet away from her. "I'm sorry I never told you about my magic. Like I said earlier, I was afraid that you would turn against Camelot and destroy yourself in the process. But I actually helped that to happen. And I'll never forgive myself for the suffering that I caused you. Perhaps if I had told you, none of this would have happened and you wouldn't hate me. I'm sorry."

Morgana blinked rapidly, unable to say anything such was her shock. She found herself trembling.

"You think by apologising you'll make me trust you?" she whispered, still weak with amazement. "That I'll forgive you and join with you on Camelot's side?"

Merlin shook his head and fixed her with an intense stare. "No, I hope that you'll listen to me and really begin to understand your true motives for doing this. That you'll stop thinking you're doing this because it's just. It's only your hurt talking, Morgana. You're lost, and you think this is the only path to take. It isn't. And I can help you by beginning to make up for the wrong I did to you. You're not alone, Morgana."

And before Morgana was able to reply, Merlin turned and headed back the way he had come.

Morgana stood watching his retreating back until it was gone. Her breathing was heavy. Something wet fell across her face. She put her hand up in confusion, to find that her face was wet with tears.

In revulsion, she scowled and stormed off in the opposite direction from Merlin.

She wouldn't be weak. The only way this would end would be with Camelot's destruction. It had to.

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! I know my story has been a bit all over the place when it comes to updating and the quality may have suffered a little, but I'm fully determined to remedy that!**

**I've written several chapters in advance this time, almost to the end of the story, so updates WILL be regular, and this time I promise to keep to that pledge. That is if any of you can still be bothered with this fic :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks to everyone to reviewed the last chapter! Glad to find that there's still some of you who like this story and thanks for putting up for my abysmal updating record!**

* * *

Lancelot paced up and down outside of the city walls, his heart hammering rapidly. He glanced around almost constantly, alert for any movement from either the city or the woods. He'd been waiting for almost ten minutes and couldn't stop fidgeting.

"On edge are we?"

Lancelot jumped and swung around, automatically drawing his sword from his sheath as he did so. Merlin was standing before him, his hands raised up in a position of surrender.

"Trying to kill me already? I haven't even said anything yet!"

Lancelot sighed in relief. He sheathed his sword and let himself calm down a little.

"Merlin! You startled me!"

"I sent you a message telling you to meet me here, why would you be surprised?"

"You're right, I'm just a little on edge," Lancelot said. "I can't help it what with the events over the last two days."

Merlin nodded knowledgably. "I understand, I am as well."

He moved closer, scanning the trees for anyone listening in.

"What were you thinking, Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "Revealing your identity like that?"

Merlin sighed. "I know. But we can't dwell on that now."

"What did the Wandrian say?" Lancelot asked. "Do they still want you now that you can't spy anymore?"

Merlin grimaced. "Well, I told them I _could_ still spy for them …"

Lancelot laughed. "And how exactly will you manage that?"

His hilarity drained away however when he saw Merlin's face. "Me?" he gasped. "You want me to be the one feeding you information?"

"I need to be able to give them something!" Merlin said urgently. "I need you to help!"

"But what about the grain supplies, Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "I can't replenish them with magic, without you here the people of Camelot really will starve!"

"I've already thought of that," Merlin said, and from within his cloak withdrew a small polished stone with a strange rune carved on it. He handed it to Lancelot. "I've enchanted it," he explained. "Hide it in the granary and three times a day when the room is empty of people it'll replace what was taken."

Lancelot looked down at the stone a little dazed. "You can do that?"

Merlin nodded. "I have to. You're right, we can't let the people really starve, but I still have to be able to prove to the Wandrian that I'm useful. They're frustrated that I'm not being converted to Dark Magic."

"And what about Morgana?" Lancelot asked. "Is she convinced?"

Merlin bit his lip. "Actually, she knows I'm not loyal to the Wandrian."

"What?!"

"But it's alright!" Merlin said hurriedly. "She won't say anything at the moment. I'm just trying to convince her of the right path!"

Lancelot sighed heavily and closed his eyes. "Merlin … you'll be the death of me. You can't trust her."

"You won't stop me from trying," said Merlin firmly.

Lancelot nodded in resignation. "I know, I won't even try to." He hesitated. "And I admit, I haven't been so careful myself."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, frowning.

"Gwaine … sort of knows," Lancelot said.

Now it was Merlin's turn to look indignant. "He what?!"

"I didn't tell him everything," said Lancelot hastily. "All I told was him was that I already knew about your magic and that he had to trust his instincts. In my defence he already seemed to know. I think he's seriously unsure about what to believe."

Merlin nodded and looked upset. "I thought so. I hate to think of them all believing me to be a traitor. How did Arthur take it?"

"Not well," said Lancelot, sighing. "He locks himself away and spends hours and hours trying to come up with a plan to defeat the Wandrian. He's got every available soldier he has searching for this Portal."

"He won't find it," said Merlin. "The Druids are perfectly capable of hiding it with magic."

"We have to do something to even it up," said Lancelot. "I've been put in charge of the new grain routes so you'll still be able to give them that information, but we need something to boost Camelot's morale. Any ideas?"

Merlin frowned. "No. I can still make sure that no one is killed and the people don't starve but … I don't see what else I can do."

"What about telling me where the Portal is?"

"I don't know," said Merlin. "Only Hafela knows that."

"There has to be something, Merlin!"

"I'll think about it," said Merlin, but he looked worried.

"What exactly is your plan, Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "You're not exactly a double-agent anymore. What's the use in continuing to simply protect Camelot instead of striking back? What is it you're planning to do to defeat these people?"

Merlin was silent for a moment. "I have to stop them opening the Portal," said Merlin. "I'm working on that with Morgana at the moment, but in the wider picture … I have to undermine their power. Protecting the Portal will only delay them until next Samhain. I have to find a way of getting rid of the Council of Elders. The rest of them won't be too much trouble, the vast majority are just mindless slaves."

"Why not kill them now before Samhain, before they get the chance to open the Portal if you fail with Morgana?" said Lancelot.

Merlin shook his head. "No, this is the path I have to take. The prophecies were clear on that. The key to defeating the Wandrian is closely related to this Portal and Morgana. Perhaps by stopping them opening it I can destroy them all together. I'm not sure exactly. In any case, I still need time to get through to Morgana."

Lancelot bit back the response that came to his lips. He wouldn't try and dissuade Merlin any longer. If he wanted to continue chasing after Morgana, let him.

He sighed again. He placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I wish you luck, my friend. The next grain wagon is coming through Crossford tomorrow at dawn. And try and leave some hints with the soldiers that you found them using magic; the routes have been completely changed and Arthur will get suspicious if you're still managing to find them easily even if you're not at Court. We don't want him suspecting me as well."

Merlin nodded. "I can do that. And here," he said, offering Lancelot a small amulet carved of stone. "Hold this in your hand and speak my name if you want to contact me. If you hear anything that could be useful, tell me as soon as possible. Come out here and I'll meet you."

Lancelot nodded, taking the amulet, clapped him on the shoulder, and turned and headed back into the castle, hearing Merlin chant a spell behind him and be swept away in some whirlwind. He felt exhausted with worry and consternation.

He found himself back in the castle and walking down a dark corridor, fingering the amulet in his pocket. He hoped Merlin knew what he was doing.

"Sir Lancelot!"

Lancelot froze as he heard Arthur's voice behind him. He turned to see the prince hurrying towards him. As he approached, Lancelot observed that he didn't look at all well. There were shadows under his eyes and his face looked grey and drawn, as though he'd just aged thirty years.

"Are we all set for tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes, Sire," said Lancelot.

"Good," nodded Arthur. "Crossford is out of the way; they won't be expecting such an arbitrary route. We should be able to evade them."

"I hope so, Sire," said Lancelot, feeling a horrible sinking sensation. He knew perfectly well that the grain wagon would not be left untouched.

"How are you doing?" Arthur asked him, falling into step beside Lancelot. "Merlin was your friend as well. How are you taking it?"

Lancelot fought the urge to grimace. He hated this.

"As well as I can, Sire. We mustn't allow ourselves to sink beneath our grief. We have to focus on fighting."

"Exactly," agreed Arthur. "We cannot linger on the past."

Lancelot nodded, but he noticed that Arthur didn't look as though he really believed what he'd just said. Lancelot wanted nothing more than to just tell him the truth, but knew he couldn't. Arthur had to be a part of the illusion as well, for Merlin's sake.

As they walked, Gwen stepped out from a room in front of them. She bit her lip as she noticed Arthur and Lancelot walking side by side.

"Guinevere," acknowledged Arthur, and he smiled, though his eyes didn't light up the same way they used to when he saw her. Apparently even she couldn't lift his mood.

"I should go, Sire," Lancelot said, and he bowed and made to leave. Gwen watched him as he left and she was frowning. Lancelot wondered if she had given any further thought to their discussion the previous night. Did she still think Merlin was on their side?

He couldn't wait to find out. All he could hope is that she didn't lose faith. When all the truth came out, Arthur would need her there to convince him that Merlin's true loyalty had been to Camelot all along.

Then it would be up to Arthur to decide. And Lancelot hoped fervently he'd be able to forgive them all.

* * *

"Is this right?"

Merlin glanced up and saw Gehola with a bunch of flames in his hands, controlling them so that they took the shape of a dragon.

"Close enough. Next time try and tighten your control of the magic so to make the shape more defined. No offence, but it looks more like a sheep than a dragon."

Gehola sighed and slumped down. It was now four days after Merlin's reveal and the two of them were sitting underneath the tree of the Old Religion in the Forest of No Life. Merlin was still extremely confused as to why Gehola's magic seemed so different to anything else and had brought him out here to try and experiment.

"I'll never get this right."

"Gehola, it's your very first try," said Merlin. "I'm amazed you're doing so well."

He truly was. Like on previous occasions, all Gehola had to do was learn an incantation before immediately being able to cast the spell almost perfectly. It was completely bewildering. Why did he have this ability? Even Merlin wasn't able to do that, and from everything the prophecies and Great Dragon had told him he was supposed to be entirely unique. After his conversation with Gaius, Merlin was becoming increasingly worried about him. As a result of Gehola coming to this tree so often to be rid of the effects of Dark Magic it was almost as if he now had some external force of the Old Religion literally residing within his body. Gaius had said the purest form of that magic could be a danger to someone. Morgana had it, which was what enabled her to resist Dark Magic, but she was limited in that she couldn't access her magic and control it beyond more than a couple flimsy spells. Gehola was somehow able to do that, and Merlin still had no idea why, or what it meant.

Although Merlin also possessed that pure magic, like with all living things, the magic became slightly diluted when it was inside of a person and that was what enabled him to be affected. Morgana was an exception to the rule according to the prophecies, but Gehola seemed to be an even further exception that prophecy made no mention of. It made no sense.

Gehola smiled and stretched out on the ground. "Can we finish now?"

"Don't you want to learn some magic?" Merlin asked.

"Not really," shrugged Gehola. "I don't want magic, I don't care about it. I'd be happy for it all just to go away."

"But why?" Merlin asked, genuinely incredulous; he could never imagine feeling that way.

"I just want to be normal," said Gehola. "Magic has brought me nothing but misery my entire life. I don't want to learn it. Maybe if it's gone, I could go and live somewhere and be normal."

"If we're successful, you'll be able to live anywhere you want," said Merlin. "Camelot will embrace magic once more and you can do anything you desire."

Gehola smiled. "Maybe."

"You're living in a daydream, Emrys."

Merlin turned as he heard Morgana's voice. She was standing behind him, looking at the tree in revulsion. "Lady Morgana! Did Uther never teach you that it was rude to listen in to other people's conversations?"

"No," she said, glaring. "But he did teach me the proper way to deal with my enemies. Want to see?"

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Just try it, Morgana."

"Um," said Gehola, sitting up straight in shock. "I think I'd … I'd better go …"

He stood up and with one last terrified glance at Morgana ran off through the trees and back to the village. Merlin watched him go and turned back to Morgana.

"You scared him off!"

She scowled and she moved around Merlin and settled herself on a tree branch just above the ground. "He should not be so easy to scare."

"You underestimate how intimidating you can be."

Morgana made no answer. She glared at the ground. She looked up at the tree once more.

"Why are you here?"

Merlin looked up at the tree as well.

"It is of the Old Religion, like you and me. Being here in its shadow is comforting. Gets rid of the horrors of Dark Magic."

Merlin had found himself coming here more and more often. Although not being corrupted by the Dark Magic thanks to his tooth talisman, being around it more, especially now since he was actually living in the castle constantly put him on edge.

"It's discomfiting," said Morgana. "I don't like it."

"Only because you're still denying that part of yourself that is good," said Merlin. "This is the magic that lies within you. Embrace it, don't fear it."

"You're still bent on converting me then?" Morgana sneered, but Merlin detected something deeper there. "I've already told you. I won't be swayed."

"Then why did you seek me out?" Merlin asked, keeping his tone casual. He didn't take his eyes off her face. He had to tread carefully. He had to reach that part of her.

"What else have I to do?" Morgana asked, trying to act blasé, but Merlin wasn't fooled. She was conflicted.

"I'm part of your entertainment? I'm flattered. I thought destroying villages and murdering people was all that entertained you?"

Morgana frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Just a few weeks ago you were attacking villages," Merlin said, watching her carefully. "A survivor, a tiny boy, came to the city and told us how you laughed as you slaughtered his family and neighbours."

She avoided his eyes. "You caught me. I'm an evil murderess who's unable to be redeemed."

"Perhaps you are."

"So why then are you trying so hard to get me on your side?" Morgana asked. "Would you honestly welcome me back at Camelot knowing what I have done?"

She was whispering, and Merlin saw a flickering of emotion behind her eyes.

"I would," he said, after a long moment of staring at her. "If I truly thought that you regretted your actions. If I saw that the evil had not fully driven the good from your heart."

"Well, that's that then," she announced. "I regret nothing."

"I don't believe that," said Merlin, still staring at her. "I can see it. I can still see traces of the woman you used to be. Don't be afraid of her."

Morgana made no answer and looked away from Merlin. Her hands were twisting in her lap, the only indicator of what she was thinking. Merlin held his breath, hoping he was making at least some progress. This was the first chance in two days that he'd had to talk to her. He'd left her alone to try and figure out her thoughts and come to the conclusion that she was more conflicted than she let on.

"Why did you learn magic?" she asked suddenly, looking up at Merlin, and he saw nothing but curiosity there. "Why risk everything to learn magic in a city where it was banned?"

She no longer looked angry or confused, and Merlin took his time in answering her. He had to be careful.

"You said to me once, Morgana," he began, "that magic might not be something that you choose, but something that chooses you. That's what happened to me."

"How did you discover that you had it? Was it in Camelot?"

"No," said Merlin. "My mother said that I began using magic the very day I was born. I struggled with it my entire childhood, afraid of who and what I was. My mother sent me to Camelot to try and make sense of my gifts. Gaius gave me his old spellbook and helped guide me, and I taught myself spells and enchantments. I never had a choice. Magic is who I am."

She frowned for a moment. "All your life?" Then a look of comprehension came over her features. "That boy from your village, Will. He wasn't the one who did that spell in Ealdor, it was you."

"Yes," said Merlin. "Aside from my mother, Will was the only one who knew about my magic. The only reason I think I didn't go insane."

"It was more than I ever had, I was completely alone," said Morgana, and there was an almost accusatory tone to her voice.

"I know," said Merlin, not missing the implication. "But I still felt alone. I still had to lie to Arthur every day, hear him spout off about all the evils of magic while I polished his armour. It was by no means easy."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Because I had hope," Merlin said. "Hope that one day Arthur would change people's views on magic, that our people would no longer be persecuted."

"If you had so much faith in Arthur then why didn't you tell him sooner?" she asked.

Merlin frowned. "I wanted to. I suppose I was … waiting for the right moment."

She laughed. "Well, you picked the worst possible moment!"

"Don't I know it?" Merlin murmured, still feeling the pain as he remembered Arthur's betrayed face.

She stood up, and all trace of the curious was gone and replaced by condescension.

"He would have executed you, Merlin," she said, coldly. "He wouldn't have hesitated. And that's why I'm doing this."

"Our friendship wasn't for nothing," Merlin retorted. "He would have at least listened. And that's precisely why you shouldn't do this. There is a chance, however small."

"I can't take that chance, Merlin," Morgana whispered, and an agonized expression came over her features. "My sister is dying because of you and Camelot. I can't protect her while Arthur lives."

"She doesn't deserve protection," said Merlin. "She lied to you and manipulated you into turning against us all. She doesn't really care about you."

"Don't say that!" Morgana hissed, and the anger was back. "She helped me when no one else would!"

"She took advantage of you!" Merlin said, also standing up. "She only wanted you so she could take revenge on Camelot! Can't you see that? Wouldn't you rather take a chance on fixing that which is broken rather than destroying it? Destroying Camelot isn't the answer!"

Morgana glared at him for a few minutes more before storming off through the trees leaving him alone. He kicked a root in frustration. Would he ever get through to her?

* * *

Gwaine tapped his fingers impatiently on the table in the council chambers. How had this happened again? How was this possible?

He'd been out all day with the Knights searching for this bloody Portal only to return that evening to find that once more, their supply wagon had been attacked and everything it contained, grain, weapons and taxes from the outer villages, had been seized by the Wandrian.

Anger coursed through him as he thought of it. How had they known?

He and the other Knights were waiting for Arthur to arrive and each of them had a face like thunder. Well, except Lancelot, he didn't seem too bothered.

Gwaine felt something strange as he looked at Lancelot, remembering their conversation a few nights ago. Gwaine was still confused. What had Lancelot meant? He'd said Gwaine had to trust his instincts, but Gwaine wasn't entirely sure what those were any more.

He still thought of Merlin being Emrys as being wrong, something awful that couldn't be true, but the facts told him otherwise. How could Merlin be on their side? Was Lancelot really that deluded? Or was he on to something that Gwaine couldn't quite see?

At that moment, Arthur stormed in through the doors his expression full of anger.

"How?" he demanded by way of greeting his knights. "Merlin left Camelot four days ago but _still_ each of our supply wagons have been attacked and emptied. How does he know?"

"Lancelot and I changed everything, like you ordered, Sire," said Percival. "We're the only ones aside from yourself and the Knights leading them who know their routes. And even the Knights are only told at the last moment."

"Remember what they said though," said Elyan. "Emrys had said something that suggested to them that he was tracing them through magic."

"That must be it," said Lancelot. "Each of the routes are arbitrary, he couldn't possibly guess them. And it can't be coincidence."

Arthur sighed heavily, and the anger drained away. "How are our supplies, Gwaine?"

"They're holding up," said Gwaine, frowning. "And that's what confuses me, Sire. They haven't been replenished in weeks but we're not running low at all. I don't understand it."

"Some luck at last," said Leon. "We should be grateful."

"There's something strange at work," said Percival shaking his head.

"Of course there is," said Arthur. "This is Camelot. When is anything ever _normal?_"

He continued the meeting by reassessing every aspect of security and going over every little detail again and again, but Gwaine couldn't see the point in it. They had to do something completely different.

"Sire!" he interrupted, standing up. "I have an idea."

"Let's hear it," said Arthur nodding to him. "Heaven knows we need new ones."

"I'll lead one of them myself," Gwaine said. "I'll choose my own route as I go and tell no one. That way we can be certain that the information wasn't leaked somehow and know for sure that we're being traced by magic. We have to rule out the possibility of another traitor."

"Another one?" Arthur asked, laughing grimly. "I don't think Camelot can hold anymore. First my sister and now my servant. It seems everyone is determined to betray me …"

He was silent for a moment as he thought, and Gwaine waited patiently. "All right," he said finally. "We'll give it a try. Lead the tax wagon from Willowsdale tomorrow."

"Thank you, Sire," said Gwaine, eager to get stuck in. He couldn't fail at this.

"Sire," said Lancelot, also standing up and looking worried. "I think I should go too."

"Why?" asked Gwaine, suddenly suspicious. "We only need one of us."

"I've been in charge of the routes so far, Sire," said Lancelot, speaking directly to Arthur. "I know where each of the attacks have been. I can help."

Arthur considered for a moment. "All right. Draw up a route between yourselves and tell no one. You leave tonight to return at dawn tomorrow. Dismissed."

Gwaine watched Lancelot as he left. There had to be a better reason than that for Lancelot being suddenly so eager to go.

A thought struck him. Lancelot _had _been in charge of the supply routes, and even after they'd been changed Merlin had still managed to attack them. Was it possible …

No, that was ridiculous. Lancelot wasn't about to betray Camelot.

But what he'd said about Merlin ….

Two hours later, after much debate with Lancelot about the right route to take, Gwaine was sitting on his horse in the palace courtyard with a contingent of foot soldiers ready to leave and pick up the supplies from Willowsdale. He'd find out soon enough what was going on.

Running out into the courtyard from the lower town Lancelot suddenly appeared, looking rather out of breath. He took the reins of the horse offered him by the stable boy and mounted hurriedly.

"Where were you? We were ready to leave ages ago." Gwaine said, watching him suspiciously.

"I had something to do," Lancelot said, avoiding looking at Gwaine.

"What?"

"I had to … leave a message. Let my friends know I wouldn't be here tonight."

Gwaine nodded, but was almost certain that he was being lied to. "Friends other than the Knights? I'm offended."

Lancelot laughed quickly, and urged his horse into a trot, moving ahead rapidly, leaving Gwaine to follow. Did Lancelot really think he was fooling anybody? What was it exactly he was hiding? Was it about Merlin? What was it?

As they rode, Gwaine kept going over their conversation in his mind. Was Merlin really still on their side, or did Lancelot just think he was?

* * *

**A/N: Hopefully I'll be back to a regular updating schedule! One a week until my exams are over :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has left reviews and followed this! Sorry I didn't update last weekend like I said. Exams, urgh ...**

**Hope you like! :)**

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Gwaine swept his eyes from side to side of the wooded path as he rode with Lancelot early on the fifth morning since Merlin's defection. He was exhausted; they'd ridden through all the night to pick up the supplies and had had no time to sleep as they'd had to set out straight away again to get back to Camelot.

Gwaine was alert for any sign of trouble. He couldn't bring himself to relax; all he could think about was sorcerers leaping on them unawares from the dark confines of the trees. He glanced to his left and saw Lancelot looking equally worried, though as if there was something else entirely on his mind.

Gwaine hadn't stopped watching Lancelot. There was something about the way he was acting that aroused his suspicion.

Gwaine stopped his horse and held up his hand to stop the procession. Lancelot frowned. "What are you doing?"

Gwaine pointed. "We should head down this embankment while it's not too steep, ford the river and take the east road back to Camelot."

Lancelot turned to look at where Gwaine was pointing. "But we already agreed on the route in your chambers last night. Why change it now?"

"We're trying to avoid them," said Gwaine. "And I don't see a better way of doing that than constantly changing the route ourselves."

"What, you think Merlin can read minds?" Lancelot grumbled.

"I think you're better placed to tell me that," said Gwaine pointedly, and led his horse down the embankment, the procession following. He still hadn't gotten over the fact that Lancelot had known of Merlin's magic and not said anything. He wasn't sure exactly what he thought about that. Gwaine was by no means anti-magic, but he respected the law of Camelot and thought Lancelot had too. Why had he said nothing about Merlin's magic? Had the magic perhaps been what had encouraged Merlin to turn against Camelot? If Lancelot had spoken out sooner would none of this have happened?

Gwaine wasn't sure whether or not he trusted Lancelot any more, and that was the real reason he had decided to come this way. He detested himself for suspecting him, but there were just too many indicators that made him question Lancelot's loyalty.

Could Merlin be on their side? Was Lancelot helping him for that reason?

But Merlin could no longer replenish the food supplies, if he'd been doing it at all. Surely now it was far too dangerous to continue attacking the wagons? If Merlin was on their side, he wouldn't risk really letting Camelot starve to death would he?

Was he just being paranoid or was Lancelot looking around rather worriedly? He seemed to be expecting something to happen. But how could he? Was this normal anticipation like what Gwaine was feeling, or did he know something?

They continued along this route for another hour. Gradually, Camelot began to appear above the trees and Gwaine felt his heart soar. Almost there.

Almost as soon as he had thought this, there was an explosion on the road in front of him.

His horse reared and Gwaine was thrown from it and fell hard on the ground. He leapt to his feet almost immediately and wrenched his sword from its sheath, feeling a liquid fire surge through his veins.

He heard a cackle behind him. He spun around to see several black robed figures with rotten skin attacking his men, rounding them up and setting them on the ground, blasting trees aside with lime green jets of light and laughing as they did so. One came running towards Gwaine.

Gwaine lifted his sword threateningly, but the Wandrian member laughed and his black eyes flashed green. Gwaine's sword melted down to the hilt.

Gwaine looked at it in despair for a moment before throwing it away and running at the sorcerer. Sword or no sword, he _wouldn't _surrender.

He saw Lancelot being led away by another sorcerer towards the rest of the men, but Gwaine refused to lie down. The sorcerer continued laughing, and a congealed mass of black liquid spilled from his mouth. He raised his palm, and Gwaine felt himself flying through the air before he'd even got a chance to make contact.

He hit the ground hard again, and coughed, winded. He sat up and saw the sorcerer standing above him, an evil leer on his face.

"Say goodbye to your precious life, Knight of Camelot." The man cackled. He opened his mouth to cast the spell-

"NO!"

The sorcerer froze and his face contorted with anger. "But-"

"No," the voice repeated, and stepping into view looking almost bored with the situation, came the man Gwaine had been dreading.

"Emrys!" the man scowled. "This is one of Arthur's most trusted Knights! What better message to send than his head?"

Merlin fixed the man with an icy glare. "You will not touch him."

Gwaine felt a great anger stir inside of him as he looked at Merlin's face. All the doubts he'd had about Merlin's loyalty vanished, all he could feel now was rage and betrayal.

"Why not?" he yelled. "Still got some trace of good? Or are you a coward? Kill me!"

Merlin turned to look at Gwaine and Gwaine felt an icy dagger pierce his heart as he did so. _Merlin … _

"You see!" the sorcerer scowled. "They will think we are weak and afraid! Kill him, Emrys!"

"Lay a hand on any of them and I will curse you so badly you'll beg me for death," Merlin said, his voice dangerous, and Gwaine shivered. That wasn't the Merlin he knew. It couldn't be.

Merlin turned back to Gwaine. "I will not kill you."

"Why? I thought evil like you couldn't understand friendship!" Gwaine shouted, the hurt and anger still raging inside of him.

"I have my reasons," said Merlin softly.

Then, his eyes flashed golden and Gwaine felt himself flying through the air. He was deposited roughly beside Lancelot and the other soldiers and found he was frozen to tee spot by some form of magic as the Wandrian unloaded the wagon. Merlin stood and watched Gwaine the entire time, his expression unreadable.

Gwaine wanted to scream in frustration. How was this fair? They'd come so close!

"That's it all, Lord Emrys," another sorcerer said, coming up to Merlin. "We should get back."

"Yes," murmured Merlin. "Hafela will be pleased."

"Why are you doing this, Merlin?!" Gwaine demanded unable to remain silent. "Why work for that despicable swine?"

Merlin, who had been walking away, stopped and turned.

"You'll see, one day," he said. "And I hope you'll understand."

"Understand?" yelled Gwaine. "How could I possibly?"

Merlin's eyes flicked to Lancelot's, who was looking remarkably calm. He turned and headed back to where the Wandrian were standing, loaded down with the supplies.

"You'll see, Gwaine," Merlin said calmly, standing beside a sorcerer whose very face seemed to be peeling away. "Sooner than you think."

And the next instant, Merlin summoned some sort of whirlwind and he and the others were gone.

As soon as this had happened, Gwaine felt the spell that had been tying him to the spot cease and he was able to move again. He stayed seated for the longest time however, angry, upset and confused.

What had that been about?

* * *

That evening when they reported to Arthur, Gwaine spoke dejectedly and hung his head in shame. Why couldn't he have done something, anything?

Merlin must have traced them using magic, there was no other explanation. Except …

Gwaine was now more certain than ever that there was something strange going on with Lancelot. And he _would_ find out what it was.

That evening, Gwaine waited in the courtyard, determined to stop Lancelot after his meeting with Arthur and demand some answers. Unlike last time, he wouldn't settle for subtle hints and allusions. Solid facts were what he needed.

After what seemed like an age of waiting, Gwaine finally saw Lancelot emerge, dressed in a dark cloak. Gwaine stepped forward to meet him, but was stopped by a strange feeling. Lancelot was crossing the courtyard in a hurry, his head twisting from side to side as though wary of pursuers. He moved quickly, and headed down into the lower town.

Gwaine followed immediately. Where was he off to, and why?

He followed as silently as he could. Lancelot took his time, obviously trying to pass unseen. This alone made Gwaine suspicious. As a Knight of Camelot, Lancelot was entitled to go wherever he liked. Why the secrecy?

As Lancelot approached the city gates however, Gwaine began to suspect. He was meeting someone.

Lancelot slipped out of the city, and Gwaine haunted his steps, trying not to move too quickly lest he be seen. His red cloak made him more noticeable than Lancelot.

He followed him out into the Darkling Woods, and before long Lancelot had blended in amongst the trees so well that Gwaine lost him almost immediately. After almost ten minutes wandering around in the dark, Gwaine was cursing his luck and resolved to head back into the city and find Lancelot tomorrow, when voices came to him over the wind.

He bent low to the ground and crept closer. There was a clearing up ahead, and, crouched behind an ancient oak tree, Gwaine was just able to make out two dark figures in the clearing beyond, and their voices. He suppressed his gasp with difficulty as he recognised them.

"-sorry." Lancelot said. "I couldn't do anything about it."

"We were traipsing about for hours, Lancelot!"

Gwaine felt a blow to his gut as he recognised that voice and the enormity of what was going on hit him. Merlin. Lancelot was meeting Merlin.

"We'd worked out the route already," Lancelot was saying. "He didn't change it until the last minute when we were already on the journey."

Merlin seemed to sigh. "That was close. They were getting impatient, saying that I was useless now that I couldn't deliver anything. It was pure luck we found you at all."

"Luck," agreed Lancelot. "Now Arthur's certain that you're tracing them using magic."

"They don't suspect you?"

"Arthur doesn't," Lancelot said. "But Gwaine …"

Gwaine clenched his hand over his mouth as though afraid they'd hear him breathing. They were talking about _him_.

"What about him?"

"He's confused. He's not sure what to believe anymore. I think he might suspect me."

Merlin sighed again. "That's a problem."

Gwaine's fury was ignited. He was a _problem?_ The two people he'd considered friends were calling him a problem because he was trying to defend his city?

"Did you get everything back to the Wandrian?"

"Yes."

"And how are things going with them?"

Merlin seemed to shrug. "As usual. They're disgusting and every second with them is repellant. But I hope it'll all be over soon."

"Were there any problems? That sorcerer that tried to kill Gwaine seemed pretty unpleasant."

"That was Gifre," said Merlin. "He … doesn't like me much."

"I can tell."

"He thinks I'm weak because I won't kill anyone."

"Do they all think like that?"

"Pretty much, but most of them are too afraid of me to contradict me."

"And what about Morgana?"

"What about her?" Merlin asked, and his tone was defensive.

"Have you spoken to her?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It's complicated."

"Meaning?"

Merlin sighed. "It'll take time, Lancelot. She has a lot of hate. She still doesn't trust me."

"And the rest of the Council? Hafela and the others?"

"The same," Merlin said. "Wrecan still hates me, partly because he doesn't trust me and because for some reason he hated my father. Gamol is still pretty distant and Hafela is still annoyed that I won't use Dark Magic."

"How long will you be able to go without using it?"

"As long as I need to," said Merlin immediately. "You honestly think I'm going to use that evil? I like my skin and my eyes the way they are thanks. And besides, my magic's powerful enough without resorting to that rubbish."

Lancelot sighed. "You're in deep, Merlin."

"Don't I know it?" said Merlin, and he laughed. Gwaine felt a horrible feeling as he heard this, it was almost as if the old Merlin was back.

"What about things in Camelot? How are they going?"

"As well as can be expected. The supplies are still holding out and everyone's still terrified of you."

There was a rustling sound, and Gwaine saw a deer out of the corner of his eye dart off though the trees. Merlin and Lancelot stopped talking.

"I should get back," said Lancelot. "Before I'm missed."

"Right, and be careful."

"You too, Merlin." He turned to head away, but stopped. "And by the way, the route tomorrow will be going past Sutton instead by the westward road, and it'll be around noon."

"I'll be there. Good night."

"Good night."

Gwaine remained sitting by the tree for the longest time, unable to believe what he had just heard. He'd just heard with his own ears Lancelot betray Camelot to its greatest enemy.

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think! :)**

**Since I didn't update last week, I'm uploading two this week. Next chapter will be either some time later tonight or tomorrow :)**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Here's the second chapter this weekend as promised, as I didn't update last week. **

**Hope you like! :)**

* * *

Gwaine raced back to Camelot as fast as he could, stumbling through trees and across small streams. He'd wasted enough time crouching there in the dark feeling sorry for himself. He had to back right away.

He saw the lights of the city through the trees and increased his speed. He sprinted through the gates, attracting confused stares from the guards, but seeing his regalia, they made no move to stop him. He ran up the silent streets of the lower town trying desperately to reach the citadel. He had to get there in time!

He reached the courtyard in the palace and saw with relief that there were the Knights and soldiers that were on the grain wagon tomorrow; they hadn't left yet for the journey to Willowsdale.

"Sir Gwaine?" one of the Knights called out in confusion as he ran up to them, red faced. "Whatever is the matter?"

"Don't go by the westward road," Gwaine gasped, out of breath. "Emrys knows. Go the other way instead. And don't wait until noon. Come back straight away, before it's light."

The Knight frowned in confusion. "But Sir Lancelot told us to-"

"Forget everything Sir Lancelot said to you!" Gwaine said. "Listen to me now. Go the other way."

"But the prince-"

"I'll deal with the prince. Do I have your word?"

The Knight exchanged glances with his men. "Yes, Sir Gwaine."

Gwaine nodded and fell back with relief as the Knights galloped out of the city by the light of the moon. That had been close

Now, what should he do?

Hit with a sudden feeling of weakness, Gwaine found himself stumbling backwards until he collapsed on a low wall. Lancelot was betraying them to Merlin. Merlin was betraying them to the Wandrian.

All the suspicious feelings he'd had about Lancelot the last few days had been warranted. He was betraying them. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but he couldn't deny what he had heard.

So everything Lancelot had been saying was a lie? All the implications he'd been making that Merlin was still on their side, that Gwaine had to trust in his instincts had just been an elaborate ruse?

Lancelot couldn't pretend that Merlin was on their side anymore. Gwaine had heard them. He'd told Merlin where the supply wagon would be, had told him that Gwaine was becoming suspicious, had shown concern about Merlin getting the supplies back to the Wandrian …

But Merlin had as good as admitted that the Elders didn't trust him because he wouldn't kill anyone and wouldn't use Dark Magic; he actually said Dark Magic was evil. And he'd stopped Gwaine being killed that morning, had said that he hoped he would understand one day …

Could Gwaine be overreacting now? Was there still a chance even now, that Gwaine was looking at this in all the wrong ways?

Gwaine stood up suddenly, seething with anger. No, he wouldn't doubt himself this time. He'd spent too long dithering about being suspicious of people and not taking any action. He couldn't hesitate now. He'd seen the look in Merlin's eyes this morning.

Lancelot was telling the Wandrian how to weaken Camelot, that fact was unavoidable. Gwaine had to stop him.

No matter how much his inner self was screaming at him to trust Merlin, Camelot had to come first. They were going to starve if Gwaine didn't do something.

He hoped he was doing the right thing.

* * *

Lancelot tried not to worry as he headed towards the Council Chambers that morning. He'd been summoned by Arthur in the form of two guards who now walked on either side of him. This and the grim look on their faces was enough to let him know something was seriously wrong.

They reached the massive doors and Lancelot entered, still accompanied by his guards. The sight that met him caused him to gasp.

The chambers were filled with people, the entire royal court it seemed. All the Knights stood along one wall with Gwen at one end. All of them looked confused, and wary. Arthur sat at the head of the room in his father's chair. His eyes were stone cold. Gwaine stood at his right hand side, his arms folded across his chest.

Lancelot felt a sinking feeling in his gut and a coldness spread across his heart. _They knew_.

The guards marched him up to a spot just in front of the prince and Lancelot looked up at him, meeting his eyes, trying to get him to see the truth of the matter.

"Sire-"

Arthur held up a hand to silence him. He looked at Lancelot and his expression was unreadable.

"You organised the supply route from Willowsdale this morning did you not, Sir Lancelot?"

"I did," said Lancelot, trying to stay calm. He thought he'd managed to throw the suspicion away from himself with the idea that Merlin was tracing the wagons using magic. Did they still suspect him now that another one had been attacked?

"And what route did that take?" Arthur asked him.

"The westward route, Sire," said Lancelot. "I had hoped that it would throw Emrys off the scent. Obviously I was mistaken."

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and the crowd murmured amongst themselves. Lancelot frowned. What was going on?

"The supply wagon reached Camelot over an hour ago, Sir Lancelot," said Arthur, watching him carefully. "It was not attacked."

Lancelot tried not to show his surprise. "My plan must have worked then, Sire. A great relief."

Arthur smiled. "You don't understand. The wagon was not attacked because it did not take the westward route that you suggested."

Lancelot grew cold at his words. Someone had changed the route? Why?

"That is good news, Sire."

"Is it?"

The tension in the room was now almost tangible. Lancelot felt the eyes of everyone in the room on his back.

"Of course it is, Sire. A victory at last."

Arthur's face grew stony, and he all but glared at Lancelot. "A victory only because we finally discovered the reason that Emrys has managed to attack our wagons despite having left the city six days ago."

"And what is that, Sire?" Lancelot asked, though he knew very well what it was and the dread seeped in.

Arthur stood up. "We discovered the second traitor."

And with a wave of his hands, guards sprang into action and seized Lancelot by the arms and pinned them to his sides, some drawing their swords. The room gasped as one.

Lancelot tried to struggle against his captors but found it was useless. He looked desperately up at Arthur.

"Sire! I am no traitor!"

"I saw you," said Gwaine, stepping forwards and watching Lancelot with a curiously detached expression, one that seemed desperate to mask the torment inside. "I followed you last night as you met with Merlin in the woods. You told him the information he needed. I heard you betray us with my own ears."

Lancelot recoiled in shock, and immediately began to curse his stupidity. Why hadn't he noticed someone following him? He began to panic as he realised the severity of the situation. How could he get out of this?

He saw the looks of the other Knights and Gwen and felt his heart skip. The looks on their faces …

"Sire," Lancelot all but pleaded, "you have to listen to me."

Arthur's eyes flashed in anger. "Why should I? You betrayed us! You've been working with Merlin all along! Gwaine's already told me; you've known about Merlin's magic for years!"

There were more shocked gasps in the chambers, but Lancelot paid them no heed.

"I had good reason," he said. "Please, just listen-"

"Do you deny it?" Arthur demanded. "Do you deny feeding Merlin information about Camelot?"

Lancelot hesitated for a moment.

"No, I don't."

Horrified cries rang out and Arthur turned away from him. Lancelot's heart was racing. How was he to convince them?

"Please, Arthur-"

"Don't you dare!" Arthur spun around in anger. "Don't you dare speak to me as if you're my friend. You're a traitor."

"No, I'm not," said Lancelot, now deciding to throw caution to the wind. "And neither is Merlin!"

Silence hung in the air as Arthur looked at him with bewilderment.

"Merlin is not a traitor?" Arthur asked in amazement. "You don't consider plotting to destroy the city and murder its inhabitants as treason?"

"That's not true, Sire," said Lancelot. "Please, you're a wise man, Arthur. You won't condemn a man without hearing him out first. Please, Merlin didn't betray you. He's working against the Wandrian! That's why there have been no deaths, why the grain supply isn't running out. He's working against them, he's trying to _protect _Camelot!"

Arthur blinked in shock as the rest of the room broke out into hurried discussions, sounding like a swarm of insects. Gwaine went pale.

"Protect Camelot?" Arthur repeated. "A sorcerer protecting Camelot? That's ridiculous, Lancelot. We all saw him use magic, you can't explain that away."

"No, I can't," said Lancelot truthfully, still struggling against the vice like grips of the guards. "But Merlin uses his magic for good! Who do you think really killed that griffin all those years ago? Who do you really think destroyed Morgauses' immortal army? How else can you explain all the strange coincidences and occurrences? How Emrys' true motives never seem to make sense? He's working against them. You have to believe me!"

But Arthur's face was hard. "A sorcerer can never be good," he said, and his voice was expressionless, almost as if he had given up. "He only ever plots evil. Merlin has deluded you, Lancelot. He's fooled you. And you were stupid enough to fall for his silky words. Take him away."

"NO!" Lancelot yelled, struggling again. "Sire! He's loyal to you! He's trying to stop them opening the Portal! You have to trust us! Trust in what's in your heart. Do you really think either of us would truly betray you?"

All expression drained from Arthur's face and the dark shadows in his face and weariness in his eyes seemed to shine through.

"I don't know what to believe any more."

And he turned away as the guards continued dragging Lancelot in the direction of the dungeons. Lancelot ceased his struggles and tried not to panic. Arthur didn't believe him.

Merlin was now completely on his own.

* * *

As soon as the doors to the council chambers had closed after the majority of the Court save the Knights had left, Gwen immediately stepped towards Arthur.

"Why didn't you listen?" she demanded, feeling her heart race. "Why couldn't you listen to what he had to say?"

Arthur looked at her with bewilderment. "He admitted to betraying us! What more is there to listen to?"

"He says that Merlin isn't evil," Gwen said. "He said that Merlin's working against the Wandrian!"

"I did hear him. What of it?"

"I believe him!"

Arthur turned to face her and his face was incredulous. "What?"

"It makes sense," said Gwen, feeling nervous as the Knights and Arthur stared at her, but she was determined to be heard. "Everything makes sense. Merlin is a good person, Arthur. You know deep down that he would never betray us. And neither would Lancelot."

Arthur blinked rapidly, still staring at her.

"It is strange, Sire," said Elyan, also stepping forwards. "Merlin _and_ Lancelot working against us? It doesn't make sense! There's no way Lancelot would be fooled into thinking Merlin was good if there wasn't good reason. They were closer than most, Lancelot knows him well. If he believes Merlin is on our side …"

"Merlin fooled all of us before, why not now with Lancelot?" Percival asked, cutting across Elyan. "And perhaps Lancelot was just lying to try and get out of the situation he was in. Perhaps he is actually evil as well."

"No," said Gwen, shaking her head firmly. She looked directly at Arthur pleading with him to understand. "When Merlin first left, I was almost certain that Merlin was still on our side, I couldn't believe that he was evil. And now I'm even more sure. It can't be a coincidence that the two kindest souls in Camelot are involved in this, both wouldn't betray us without good reason. Lancelot's certainty has only increased mine."

"It's made me question a few things as well," said Elyan nodding. "I could almost get my head around Merlin betraying us, what with being a sorcerer and all, but Lancelot as well? That's where I draw the line. There's more to this than what we see. I think we should listen to what Lancelot has to say."

"I heard what he had to say last night," said Gwaine fiercely, and Gwen saw a lingering hurt in his eyes. "I saw him with Merlin, heard as he told him where the wagon would be. They were discussing Camelot and the Wandrian!"

"I think you're blinded, Gwaine," said Gwen, stepping towards him. "You're trust has been so badly hurt that you're not thinking straight. You know the truth deep down. We all do."

"Enough!" shouted Arthur. He screwed up his face and rubbed his temples with an apparent headache. "I want to hear nothing more on this matter."

He stormed out of the room, all the Knights watched him leave. Gwen felt a pain in her heart. Why couldn't he see?

She turned to the remaining Knights in the room. "You believe me don't you?"

But most of them looked at her with unfeeling eyes. They were the ones of the nobility, the ones who still resented Arthur for knighting commoners. Her opinion mattered little to them. One by one they began to leave, until only a few remained.

"Leon!" Gwen said, moving towards him. "You do don't you?"

Leon started, and squirmed uncomfortably.

"I don't know. I could never really believe Merlin betraying us in the first place, and Lancelot's the best judge of character I've ever met, but … he's still a sorcerer! He still uses magic, Gwen."

"That doesn't make him evil," Gwen said, furiously feeling tears spring to her eyes. "Don't you remember all the strange things that have happened over the years, like what Lancelot said? Why can't he be a sorcerer and a good man as well?"

She turned to Elyan.

"Our father grew ill with a magical plague once," she said, feeling a strange sense of comprehension. "He suddenly got better even though there was no cure, and a magical poultice was found under his pillow. I got the blame for causing the plague and was almost executed, but Merlin intervened and told everyone else it had been him who'd left the poultice. Everyone laughed it off as him being in love with me or something, and the true source of the plague was found not long after. But we never found out who had really cured our father."

"Merlin," said Elyan, watching Gwen with wide eyes. "But why would he?"

"Because he's not really with them," Gwen said, glad at getting through to him. "Lancelot's telling the truth."

"You didn't see him yesterday," said Gwaine suddenly. "you didn't see the way he was with the Wandrian. They're all terrified of him. And it must be for good reason."

"Gwaine," urged Gwen, distressed at the way he was taking this. "I've seen you the last few days. You've been just as conflicted as me. Why are you suddenly so sure that Merlin's against us?"

Gwaine looked at her, his eyes tired and sad. "Because it's easier than trying to figure out why he lied to us all and went behind our backs all this time."

"He deliberately learned magic in a city where it was illegal," said Percival. "He knew it was banned but he did it anyway. Why would he do that if he was loyal to the city?"

"I don't know," said Gwen, genuinely puzzled. "But I know him! He wouldn't do this!"

"You _thought_ you knew him," said Gwaine. "We all did."

And without another word, he swept out of the room.

* * *

Arthur paced through his chambers trying to calm himself. Merlin. Merlin and now Lancelot. They had both betrayed him.

He kicked out at a chair angrily and heard it shatter and felt the pain in his foot but he paid no attention to either. How could they do this? How could they _both_ do this?

Underneath the initial anger all he felt was numbness. He just couldn't believe it.

He sunk into another chair and took a few deep breaths. He had to think rationally, but the thought of the two people he'd considered close friends conspiring behind his back made his blood boil.

What was he to do?

The laws of Camelot dictated that Lancelot be executed for his treason, but Arthur, despite his anger, had no intention of doing that. Gwen and some of the others were right; there was something that didn't quite add up, and Lancelot would be spared until Arthur figured out what that was.

And besides, he didn't think he could face ordering the execution of one his closest Knights.

He poured himself a goblet of water and downed it, trying to force his mind into working. There was something he was missing.

He thought hard. Lancelot had admitted to feeding Merlin information, had admitted that he'd long known of Merlin's magic and was trying to help him. Given that Merlin was now Camelot's greatest enemy, this was more than enough to condemn him.

But Arthur couldn't stop thinking about the reason Lancelot had given for his actions. That Merlin was actually still on their side.

The idea seemed ludicrous. Merlin was a sorcerer, and even if he wasn't allied with the Wandrian that fact alone was enough to make him an enemy.

As he had done every waking moment of the last week, Arthur found his mind drifting back and thinking about the years they had spent together. Why hadn't he noticed before? The clues were all there!

No, the fact that Merlin was a sorcerer was oddly enough not surprising at all once he thought about it. But that Merlin was Emrys …

Arthur clutched at the desk in front of him almost desperately. Could it be true? Could Lancelot be right?

But if he was, why on earth would Merlin be on Camelot's side if he was a sorcerer? Why would he have spent so many years here pretending to be a powerless servant? Was it some part of a grand scheme? If so, he was incredibly devoted for putting up with Arthur for so long.

Arthur remembered Merlin from long ago; all those strange occurrences, that wind in Ealdor, branches hitting people on the head at opportune moments, Merlin risking his life for Arthur again and again … why did he do that if he'd always intended to destroy Camelot? Had Arthur driven him away by his and his father's vendettas against magic? Was Arthur really to blame?

Arthur wanted to believe nothing more than that Lancelot was telling the truth. He wanted to fall upon this god given opportunity and know that the thing that had been tearing him apart for days was just an illusion, that it wasn't really true. But he couldn't.

Merlin was still a sorcerer.

He must have enchanted Lancelot, Arthur decided. Either that or he'd fooled Lancelot into thinking that he was on his side. Arthur knew from experience that Merlin, though he'd always thought otherwise, was an expert at concealment.

Arthur sighed heavily. If Lancelot had been on the Wandrian's side, he would have admitted it there and then rather than harp on about Merlin's innocence. He must truly believe what he was saying.

No, he wouldn't be punished, at least not for now. He'd be kept in the dungeons until he came to his senses, or all of this was over. He was a security risk in the meantime, but Arthur wouldn't kill him. Hell, he understood perfectly why Lancelot was so desperate to believe in Merlin's innocence.

Still, a niggling doubt kept crawling into the back of his mind. The way Merlin had looked in the weeks leading up to his departure, the illnesses, the weakness, the way Lancelot had been so worried about him … had it been real?

Arthur stood up suddenly and moved to the window. He couldn't allow himself to doubt like this. With his father bedridden, he was as good as King, and he had to protect his people.

He saw some of the Knights and Guinevere cross the courtyard far below and looked away hurriedly. He couldn't look at them. All they did was bring up the doubts again.

Guinevere was so adamant that Merlin was innocent, and she was usually right about these things. But then again, she always saw the good in people. She could easily be seeing only what she wanted to see rather than what was actually there.

Still, Arthur almost envied her. She was certain in her beliefs.

He was completely at a loss.

* * *

Gwen hurried down the staircases to the dungeons, the expensive dress that Arthur had bought for her lifted up above her ankles as she moved. Her footsteps echoed loudly around the corridor.

Some guards tried to block her way, but she gave them such a fierce glare that they backed away and allowed her access; they knew she had the prince's favour, and though she didn't usually show it, Gwen could be forceful when she wanted.

She moved along the row of cells, her heart hammering in her chest.

"Lancelot?"

"Gwen?"

She rushed forwards and found him clutching at the bars of a cell right at the very end. He watched her in astonishment.

"Gwen, what are you doing here?"

"I believe you," Gwen felt the words spilling from her lips in a great torrent. "I believe you, and I think some of the others are beginning to as well."

He closed his eyes in relief and a small smile graced his features.

"Thank god. And Arthur?"

Gwen shook her head, distressed. "I still don't think he's convinced. He's confused."

Lancelot nodded. "I didn't expect him to turn around right away. Merlin and I both knew it would take time, if it ever happened at all."

"Where is he?" Gwen asked desperately, moving closer. "Is he safe?"

Lancelot grimaced. "I wish I could tell you. The Dark Magic isn't good for him. He's found a way to guard against it, but it's still hard for him. And many in the Wandrian don't trust him. His position is fragile."

Gwen nodded, trying to take all this in, feeling exhilarated to finally know everything. "And why is he doing it, Lancelot? Why risk so much?"

"You know what will happen when the Wandrian open this Portal," said Lancelot darkly. "Merlin knows the way to stop them."

"How?" Gwen asked breathlessly.

"Morgana."

Gwen took a step back in shock. "What do you mean?"

"According to prophecy," said Lancelot speaking very quickly, "Morgana is the only one who can open this Portal. But Merlin found another one that said he is the only one who could turn her away from that path. That's what he's trying to do. He's trying to bring her back to our side and destroy the Wandrian in the process and save Camelot."

Gwen blinked. "Bring Morgana back?" she repeated faintly, hardly daring to believe it. "Is it possible?"

"Merlin thinks it is," said Lancelot. "And though I had my doubts, I've decided to trust him."

Gwen nodded, trying not to feel overwhelmed. "Then I will too," she decided.

Lancelot looked at her curiously. "What makes you have so much faith in Merlin?"

Gwen met his eyes. "Because Merlin is my friend," she said simply. "And I owe him this."

"Morgana was once your friend too," Lancelot countered. "And she tried to kill you. Why do you believe in Merlin now?"

"There was always a part of Morgana that was scared and confused, a part of her that was tormented," Gwen said, remembering. "But Merlin was never anything but good. I know in my heart that he's loyal to Camelot. And I trust you as well."

Lancelot bowed his head. "I am honoured that you place so much faith in me, my Lady," he said humbly.

Gwen shifted uncomfortably, but Lancelot gave no indication of further compliments.

"I fear for him," he said earnestly, drawing closer to Gwen, his eyes serious. "Morgana knows his true intentions but she's keeping them quiet for now. But the others don't trust him. They want to make him use Dark Magic but he refuses. They're getting impatient and suspicious. And now I won't be able to give him anymore inside information there'll be little he can offer them. I'm afraid for his life."

Gwen nodded, thinking hard. "How was it you contacted him?"

Lancelot looked at her curiously. "He gave me an artefact that allowed me to contact him by holding it and speaking his name. He'd meet me in the Darkling woods. Why?"

Gwen took a deep breath. "Because I'll take your place."

Lancelot's eyes grew wide and he clutched at the bars. "No, Gwen."

"I have to," she said. "If Merlin's still to convince them he's on their side he'll have to be useful to them. Otherwise they'll probably force him to use Dark Magic. There's no proper excuse for him not to use it now. If he thinks he can convince Morgana, then we have to buy him time in which to do it. And the best way to do that is to help him look useful to the Wandrian."

But Lancelot was still shaking his head.

"It's too dangerous, Gwen."

"Merlin will be in even more danger if I don't," Gwen said firmly.

Lancelot looked at her strangely for a moment, making Gwen slightly uncomfortable.

"And what about Arthur?" he asked. "What if he finds out and now believes that you've betrayed him as well? What will that do to him?"

Gwen hesitated, and felt a pain in her heart. "I hate it," she admitted. "But Arthur won't be convinced so long as the Wandrian are a threat. Once Merlin's defeated them, maybe then we have a chance at reconciling the two of them. But until then, I have to do this."

She sighed. "I love Arthur more than anything else in this world," she said, avoiding Lancelot's eyes as she did so. "And I hate to go behind his back like this. But I'm doing this for his sake as well as Merlin's. This is the right thing to do. I hope he'll forgive me one day. If he's the man I know he is, he will."

She said this to convince herself as well as Lancelot. It went against her very nature to be so deceitful, especially with Arthur. But she had to remember the bigger picture; if she and Merlin were successful, countless lives would be saved. Including Arthur's.

Lancelot watched her closely, his expression unreadable. Then, he smiled.

"I should know better than to argue with you, my Lady," he said. He sighed. "I don't like this. If Arthur or the Wandrian were to find out …"

"Merlin and Camelot are in danger," said Gwen, "I can't stand back and do nothing whilst I'm one of the few who know the truth."

Lancelot nodded. The, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small carved amulet. He handed it to her through the bars.

"Here," he said. "Hold this and speak Merlin's name. He'll feel it and meet you in the clearing in the Darkling Woods past the eastern watchtower."

She nodded, clutching it to her chest. "I won't fail."

"I know," he smiled.

"Hey!"

Gwen jumped and looked around to see an angry looking Knight coming storming towards her. She hastily stuffed the amulet in her pocket.

The Knight drew closer and Gwen tried to look calm as his face, red with anger, leant down to hers.

"What are you doing down here, associating with a traitor?"

"She doesn't have to explain herself to you," Lancelot scowled. "She's a friend."

The man's face went even redder. "The prince's favourite, a friend of the man who just betrayed him? That's awfully suspicious."

"_Lady Guinevere_ can associate with whomsoever she chooses," said Lancelot, his voice rising in anger.

She man scoffed. "_Lady Guinevere._ She's not a Lady! She's nothing more than a scullery maid!"

"A scullery maid who has the ear of the prince!" Gwen said before Lancelot could open his mouth and make the situation worse. "If you want to keep your position I suggest you speak to me with some more courtesy, Sir Knight. Prince Arthur would not take your remarks about me kindly."

She felt her heart beating fast as she said this; she usually hated taking advantage of her position. But, it seemed to work.

"Sorry, _my Lady_," the Knight said with great effort, his eyes glaring at her. "But I'm afraid you must leave. The prisoner is to receive no visitors. Prince's orders."

Gwen tried to retain some form of regal bearing. "Very well," she said. "I shall leave."

She picked up the hem of her dress and stated to leave, the Knight watching her suspiciously. She felt Lancelot's eyes on her as she ascended the stairs, almost sensing his hopes, worries and fears.

_Don't worry, I won't fail_

* * *

**__A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think! :)**

**Next chapter will probably be next weekend, if not sooner :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

**Adressing something that someone said in an annoymous review: Percival isn't _really_ against Lancelot, he's just confused about what to believe and questioning his friend's loyalties. I know the two of them were friends beforehand, but I wanted to show how everyone is Camelot is suspicious and on edge. And besides, this story was written pre-Series 4, before we got a chance to really know Percival. If I was writing it now, I'd do Percival's character differently, but I have to stick with my original plan I'm afraid :)  
**

* * *

"You are doing it wrong, Emrys," Hafela hissed from behind him. "The magic should flow more freely through your body. Let it consume you."

Merlin sniffed. "Well, forgive me if I'm not entirely too comfortable with that. I rather like my body the way it is."

Hafela scowled, and Merlin looked away. They were in the castle, in the Council Chambers. Merlin was standing in the centre of the room while Hafela seemed to circle around him. Gamol, Wrecan and Morgana sat at the table watching in interest.

"I have already told you, Emrys," Hafela said. "This is not Dark Magic. I told you we could teach you other ways of using your magic, and I am holding up my end of the bargain."

"Sorry for not trusting you," said Merlin, frowning. "What you're asking sounds an awful lot like it to me."

Wrecan chuckled awfully. "Believe me, Emrys, if this really was Dark Magic, you would know it."

Merlin resisted the urge to knock him out of his seat with a curse. He had no idea why he was here in the first place.

When he wasn't at the tree trying to figure out the mystery that was Gehola, he found he had very little to do. And after the grain wagon's non-appearance that morning, he'd had to find a way to try and appease the Elders and to do that, he'd consented to become a part of their sick game.

They maintained that the spells they were trying to teach him were not Dark Magic, but Merlin was not so sure. They seemed as if they were on the cusp between evil and good, and Merlin knew they were trying to push him over the brink. Nevertheless, he had learned a few non-dark ones that may be useful, including one that was useful in repelling Dark Magic with far more accuracy than a normal spell from the Old Religion. Merlin knew that if he was successful, that spell would soon become invaluable.

He was careful however, making sure the spells he learned were in no way Dark. Hafela was extremely accomplished in normal magic as well as Dark, though he hated to use it. As long as they were offering … he wasn't about to pass up a chance to learn new spells.

"I'm done for today," he announced. He turned away from Hafela and tried not to retch in revulsion at his stench. He noticed Morgana watching him closely.

"What is it, my Lady?" he asked, with mock politeness.

She scowled, but said nothing to him. Merlin looked away, his heart beating fast. Since their previous discussion in which Merlin had revealed his true intentions, she had barely left his side, obviously keeping an eye on him. Unfortunately, most of the Elders seemed to want to follow him around as well, now that Samhain was only a week away, so he never got a chance to talk to her in private. But, by the way he sometimes found her watching him, he felt a small stirring of hope. Like just now; she had looked only curious, and not scathing or hating. If he had to guess, then he'd say she was still trying to figure out what she made of him.

_Take your time_, Merlin thought, more than a little annoyed. _It's not as if the entire fate of the world rests on it._

"You are not done Emrys!" Wrecan frowned. "At least _try _one of the Dark spells!"

"No, Wrecan," Merlin said, fixing him with a heated glare. "I've already told you, I will not touch it."

"Think you're better than us?" Wrecan asked dangerously.

"Yes," Merlin said.

"How dare you-"

Merlin jumped as he felt a sudden warmth at his neck. He put a hand up and felt the amulet that was around his neck grow hot; Lancelot was trying to contact him.

"Forgive me, Wrecan," said Merlin, giving a mock bow. "But my contact in Camelot is calling. I must go."

"I hope he has a good explanation for why the wagon did not show this morning," Gamol wheezed. "Perhaps he has outlived his usefulness?"

"Arthur is trying many tactics to try and avoid us," said Merlin quickly. "He probably changed the route at the last moment as extra security. The people are panicking as the rations are setting in. He's getting desperate."

"That is news at least," said Hafela, grinning with that awful grin. "When the Portal is opened, the people of Camelot will have lost faith in their precious prince and will be that much easier to subdue. When the time comes Emrys, you will kill him and take your revenge for what he caused you to suffer. Or better yet, let him watch as his kingdom falls to ruin."

Merlin pretended to relish the idea, even as he saw Morgana raise a knowledgeable eyebrow. "I should like nothing better."

He left the room and took a deep breath in the corridor outside. This evil mask was becoming ever harder to perfect. It was too exhausting to keep it up at all hours of the day and night.

"I am beginning to think he will never be converted to the Noble Art," Merlin heard Gamol say from within. "He's stubborn."

"They all are at first," said Hafela flippantly. "But that will change. He will fall to us. When the Portal is opened, all the world will be turned to darkness. He will not be able to escape us then."

He heard the occupants of the room snigger and he grimaced in revulsion at the sound of their congealed blood gurgling in the rotten flesh of their throats. No, he'd never be like them.

He hurried out of the ruins of the castle, trying to get away from them as quickly as possible. He should get to Camelot. This place was driving him insane.

"Merlin."

Merlin froze as he heard Morgana's voice from behind him just as he was entering the Forest of No Life. He turned slowly on the spot to find her standing there, alone.

"Yes?" he asked slowly, noting that she must have practically had to run after him to reach here without the others.

"Is Camelot really starving?" she asked, her face expressionless.

Merlin shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. "Of course not. Every grain supply that is stolen, I replace."

She nodded. "I should have thought so. I remember very well the panic the last famine caused."

"Yes," said Merlin, smiling. "Arthur fed you a rat."

Morgana looked indignant. "Arthur never fed me a rat!"

Merlin smirked. "That's what you think."

Morgana's face contorted with fury and she looked so indignant that Merlin laughed.

"That looks more like you," he murmured. "The old Morgana, whose biggest concern in life was how to best Arthur in competition. Not how to kill him."

"That girl is gone" Morgana said, turning away.

"Not entirely," said Merlin softly. "If she was, you would never have come and asked me what you just did."

"I was not concerned for the people of Camelot!" she said, looking flustered. "Merely that I want them as weak as possible before I open the Portal!"

"I don't believe you," said Merlin. "There's still a part of you that cares. I know there is."

"I don't-"

But before she said anything more, Merlin turned and headed back towards the clearing to get back to Camelot.

That look in her eye, for the tiniest moment, that had been Morgana. She was there underneath. And for the first time, Merlin truly felt he was making progress.

* * *

Gwen paced about the clearing anxiously. She had checked, double checked, and triple checked that she hadn't been followed and no one was concealed nearby to watch; she was extra cautious after what had happened to Lancelot. Still, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease.

It might be perhaps to do with the fact that she was waiting on Merlin. Gwen had no doubt in her heart of his innocence, but seeing him again after all this … she was nervous. Not that he would harm her, but that she'd be at a loss of how to help him. That she'd be less than useless.

She was almost afraid that he'd be different. He had hidden a huge part of his life from her, perhaps that part would forever change his character, perhaps-

"Gwen?"

She jumped and wheeled around to see Merlin standing at the opposite end of the clearing staring at her in astonishment. All her doubts drained away as soon as she saw him. She knew.

"Merlin!" she cried and ran towards him. She threw her arms around his skinny neck and hugged him close. After a moment of shock, Merlin reciprocated and hugged her tightly back. "Oh, Merlin! I'm so glad you're alright!"

He pulled back and looked at her, his face filled with wonder and joy.

"You know?" he asked, his voice filled with excitement. "You know the truth? You believe in me?"

"Of course I do, you idiot!" she said, giving him a slight shove. "No one in their right mind would doubt it."

"Then why do the others?" Merlin asked, his voice dropping slightly.

"Because they're not in their right minds; they're still hurt," she said, squeezing his arm. "They're questioning themselves. They know it deep down, Merlin. They'll see that."

"I hope so," said Merlin, and Gwen was surprised to see his eyes strangely watery. "Gwen, you've no idea what this means …"

She smiled, feeling herself getting oddly emotional. "I'm your friend, Merlin. Don't forget that."

He grinned, and his eyes seemed to light up in a way that Gwen hadn't seen for weeks, since before the Wandrian came into their lives. He pulled her into another quick hug and Gwen laughed. It really was true; Merlin was still Merlin, the way he'd always been. Why couldn't the others see?

Suddenly, Merlin pulled back from the embrace, his eyes wary again and looking panicked. "But if you're here … where's Lancelot?"

Gwen's face fell. "He was seen, meeting you here last night. He was arrested this morning."

Merlin went pale. "Is he alright? He hasn't been-"

"No," said Gwen interrupting. "Arthur seems to think he's deluded or enchanted. He's safe for now."

Merlin breathed a massive sigh of relief and fell back, leaning against a tree. "I shouldn't have involved him. I should have noticed someone else's presence there last night; I was just too exhausted with being surrounded by that magic all day and night. I knew something was wrong when the wagon didn't show up this morning."

"The Wandrian don't suspect you do they?" Gwen asked anxiously.

Merlin shrugged. "It's not good. But I can probably lie my way out of it. It's not as if we need more grain anyway. It was just the fact that I was able to contribute without resorting to Dark Magic."

He sighed. "We've only got a week left. I'll have to find some other way." He paused for a moment. "By the way, who was it that saw us?"

Gwen bit her lip. "It … it was Gwaine."

Merlin blinked rapidly for a few moments. "Gwaine?" he breathed. "But- Lancelot said he thought he was starting to see the truth?"

"He was," said Gwen. "But, I suppose seeing the two of you in the woods must have hit him hard."

Merlin cursed and kicked out at a tree root. He buried his head in his hands. "Just when I think I'm making progress," he said bitterly. "I'd counted on Gwaine …"

"He isn't lost yet," said Gwen soothingly, moving closer. "He's confused. Give him time, let me talk to him."

"And what can you say?" Merlin asked. "How can you convince him?"

Gwen's silence was all the answer Merlin needed. He sunk down on the ground and looked so miserable that Gwen immediately rushed over to him.

"It'll be alright, Merlin," she said, holding his face in her hands firmly as she knelt before him. "I promise you. Friendships like that are not easily tossed aside."

He managed a small smile and stood up, apparently trying to regain his composure.

"It doesn't matter if it doesn't," he said. "Even if they all hate me for the rest of their lives, I still need to do this."

Gwen nodded, and moved forward. "And let me help."

He looked surprised. "Help?"

"Of course!" she said. "Lancelot can't help you, so I must. I've already spoken to Gaius, he's agreed to keep me informed of some of the more secret Court meetings and I can meet you here like Lancelot did."

"But what about Arthur?" he asked, frowning. "Could you really feed me information from behind his back?"

"I must," she said. "You sound just like Lancelot. I have to do what's right."

"But," he said. "It's dangerous Gwen-"

"Don't say that," she reprimanded. She looked at him for one long silent moment. "When that magical plague hit Camelot, you helped my father. You were the one who placed that poultice under his pillow weren't you?"

Merlin started in surprise, but slowly, he nodded.

She felt tears spring to her eyes as she thought of her father again. "And why did you do that, Merlin? Why did you risk your life in healing him, and then again by turning yourself in to save me?"

"Because," Merlin began, before faltering and looking sad as he remembered, "because I couldn't stand back and do nothing. Not when I was able to help."

She nodded. "Exactly. And that's why I'm doing this now. Do you understand?"

Merlin met her eyes and he nodded. "I do."

Gwen looked away for a moment, almost ashamed at how emotional she was getting. Merlin seemed to be doing likewise. After a few moments they looked back at each other again.

"I'll keep my eyes and ears open, Merlin," she promised. "I'll find out what I can, and I'll try and talk to the others. They all doubt themselves anyway, I may be able to convince them in time."

"Thank you, Gwen," Merlin said, smiling as he watched her. "You're so brave and kind. Arthur's a lucky man."

She smiled wryly. "He won't think so if he catches me."

Merlin grinned. "Well, if he does, just leave him to me. I'll turn him into a real ass."

Gwen laughed, despite herself, and found herself looking at Merlin more closely. "You really could do that if you wanted to, couldn't you?"

He smirked. "Yes."

"Then however did you manage to put up with him all that time without doing it?"

"Magic," he said, flashing her a cheeky grin.

She shook her head. "It's incredible. A powerful sorcerer protecting Camelot whilst at the same time polishing armour, mucking out stables and scrubbing floors?"

He grinned. "Yes, but I had a little help with the chores. If Arthur had ever walked in, he'd have found his chambers mopping themselves."

Her mouth dropped open. "You cheat! I always wondered how you managed to finish your chores before me!"

He shrugged apologetically.

She became more serious. "I'm still annoyed, Merlin," she said, looking up at him. "I'm still hurt that you never told us, never trusted us and lied to us. But, I forgive you, because I know you had no other choice. One day though, I want the full story, Merlin. I want to know everything."

"I promise one day, I will tell you," he said, nodding. He looked up at the sky which was rapidly growing lighter. "I should get back, they'll be wondering where I am."

Gwen shivered as she thought of those awful men. She wanted nothing more than to just pull him back in the opposite direction.

He offered her another smile, and then turned to leave. But Gwen wasn't finished.

"What about Morgana?"

He froze and turned around again. He looked troubled. "I'm not sure," he said. "There are still traces of her underneath. I just have to get them to show themselves."

Gwen nodded, and remembered the good and kind woman she had known since her girlhood. "I wish you luck," she said sincerely.

Merlin gave her one last searching look, and then turned to leave. He incanted in some strange language and a whirlwind consumed him. Gwen gasped at seeing him use magic for the first time, but before she could recover from the shock, he was gone.

She stood there in shock for a few moments, watching the spot from which he'd disappeared. She shivered. Seeing Merlin use magic … it was strange. Yet, not entirely unpleasant. It seemed to her as though it was the most natural thing in the world. It had always been a part of him; she'd just never seen it surface before.

She turned back and began to make her way towards Camelot. She didn't like the thought of Merlin going back there, but she knew he had to take that risk and she'd never convince him otherwise.

It made her oddly sad, knowing what he was willing to sacrifice in order to protect the ones he loved. He risked so much all the time, ever since the moment he'd first stepped foot in Camelot. And for what? To be put down and made to scrub floors without any credit whilst all the while having to conceal his true nature from fear of losing his life?

He really one of the bravest men she'd ever known, and that included Arthur. He never wanted any credit, he didn't look for it. He'd risked turning all of his closest friends against him in order to keep them safe and alienating them forever. It was almost as if he didn't care if they hated him or not; as long as they were safe.

Gwen hurriedly wiped the tears that began to spill from her eyes. Yes, Merlin truly was far braver than she had ever thought. And he deserved as much help as possible. And she was going to give that to him.

She would not abandon him.

* * *

"Merlin?"

Merlin looked up and saw Gehola approaching almost nervously. He smiled.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Merlin sighed. He was sitting here under the tree in the forest, as he had done since he'd gotten back, all through the night. Now morning was here, not that anyone would notice in such a dark and miserable valley. Gehola came closer and sat beside him looking worried.

"My friend in Camelot, the one that was helping me," said Merlin, "he was caught."

Gehola looked alarmed.

"Is he alright?"

"Yes," said Merlin, though it didn't make him feel any better about it. "He's in the dungeons. They won't execute him or anything."

"That's good," said Gehola. "How do you know he was caught?"

"Another friend," Merlin said, clutching at the amulet, "she told me."

The thought of Gwen made the anxiety in his heart dissipate a little. He smiled to himself. He should have known Gwen would never turn against him. He was incredibly lucky to have a friend like her.

"How many allies do you have left in Camelot?" Gehola asked worriedly. "Are you going to be able to have enough information to give Hafela?"

"Hopefully," sighed Merlin. "She and my old mentor will be helping. But … I thought I'd had another ally. I thought he believed in me. I was wrong."

Thinking about Gwaine drove out all the happiness of Gwen's acceptance. He had hoped Gwaine wouldn't be like the others. He had hoped he'd managed to convince Gwaine that he was doing all he could to protect Camelot, that he could be trusted.

"He'll come around," said Gehola, placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "It's just temporary. The more you try and convince the Wandrian you're on their side, the more you'll drive away the people in Camelot that you care about. You can't have it both ways. But it won't always be that way."

Merlin nodded, but said nothing. He stood up and walked off, leaving Gehola sitting beneath the tree. He didn't feel much like talking. Especially to someone whose very existence gave him a headache trying to understand.

He reached the castle and sighed as he looked up at the twisted towers and black masonry. He shuddered. Only one more week before he could leave this place.

He entered and moved as quickly as he could through the corridors until he was in the small room he used as his own chambers. They were simple, with the bed being barely more than a straw mattress. But with the additional warding spells he'd placed around the room the place was relatively well guarded against Dark Magic as long as he renewed the spells every day. With that and the use of the tooth in his pocket he was able to exist without being driven mad. It still put him on edge constantly however.

He sunk down on the mattress and began chewing on a hunk of stale bread he'd lifted from the village. That was another bad thing about this place; the Wandrian didn't think much of regular or lavish meals. Even though the Wandrian now had vast amounts of grain that they'd stolen from Camelot, it seemed none of them were much good at making food from it. He was becoming even skinner than normal.

"Hungry?"

Merlin looked up to see Morgana standing in the doorway. He smiled with great effort.

"My Lady! Do come in. I've got some rats here probably if you'd like something?"

She scowled, but she came in anyway. Merlin stood up to face her. As he did so, he noticed something different about her. She seemed more uncertain than usual. "To what do I owe this pleasure, my Lady?"

She turned and looked out of the window over the deadened valley.

"Guinevere is helping you?"

Merlin blinked in surprise. "What makes you say that?"

She didn't turn. "I heard you in the forest with that boy. Your Knight friend was caught, and now some woman is helping you. I can only assume that it's Guinevere."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "It is. But why does that matter to you?"

He cast out with his magic in all directions to make sure Hafela and the others were nowhere close by; there was a much greater chance of being overheard in the castle.

"She forgave you?" Morgana asked, still with her back to him. "After all you lied to her about, she forgave you enough to risk turning her precious Arthur against her?"

"Gwen is a good woman," answered Merlin. "She has a kind heart. You used to be like that, Morgana."

Morgana turned here and looked at him, her expression almost sad.

"Why did she forgive you?"

"Because she took the time to understand," Merlin said, keeping his eyes on her. "She was big enough to not resent the past and try and do everything to do to preserve the future. She didn't let herself become entangled in self-doubt."

He'd struck a nerve here, he could see. Morgana's face twitched.

"And that's what you want me to do? To _forgive_ Camelot?"

"Not even that," Merlin said softly. "I can never forgive Uther for what he did. But what I did was keep my peace. To be patient and hope for a better future with his son. To _make _that future come true instead of destroying the present for the sake of what has passed."

She frowned and looked down at her feet.

"I can't do that."

"You haven't tried," said Merlin firmly, taking a step closer. "I doubt Uther will ever recover from what you put him through. He'll never take charge of Camelot again. You don't have to continue with this vendetta."

"And do you honestly think Arthur will forgive me?" Morgana asked, looking back up at him, her eyes watery. "That he'll welcome me back with open arms after what I did to his father?"

"I forgave you," said Merlin quietly. "I don't blame you anymore for what happened. All I feel is sad. Sad for what you suffered. And frustrated that you can't see the fact that you can change all of this for the better."

She looked surprised and her mouth parted a little.

"You forgive me?" she asked. "Even after I tried to kill you and everyone you care about? After everything I did?"

Merlin nodded, and felt his heart tighten within his chest. "I did. And Arthur may be able to one day as well. It won't be easy. It'll take time for him to forgive both of us, if he ever does. But just because it's a difficult path doesn't mean we shouldn't try to follow it."

She shook her head, looking angry with herself.

"It's not difficult, it's impossible. It can never be achieved."

"Then why do you continue seeking me out?" Merlin asked, his voice raised slightly. "Why do you keep coming to me when you say that you hate me? There must be a part of you that knows what I say is true!"

She looked up angrily. "You're wrong! Arthur will never forgive me, and I don't want his forgiveness! And I will never forgive you either, not for what you did to me!"

"Then maybe you're really lost," said Merlin sadly. "You'll die old and miserable with every inch of goodness faded away. But I don't think so. And I have a very good reason for that."

"Oh really?" she asked, annoyed. "And what is that?"

"The tree," Merlin answered, watching her carefully. "You said you hated the way that tree affected you. So why were you anywhere near it?"

She looked lost for words for a moment. "I-"

"That tree is of the Old Religion," Merlin said, cutting across her. "You didn't like it because it reminded you of the magic you possess within you, the magic that you fear. But also because it reminds you of who you were, and who you could be. Perhaps that tree doesn't only help me and Gehola stave away the effects of Dark Magic, maybe it helps you remember who you are as well."

Morgana's face contorted in anger. "I need no reminding!" she snarled. "I know who I am. I know my loyalties. You are wasting your time, _Emrys._"

And with that, she swept out of the room.

Merlin watched her leave, and allowed himself a small smile. She was weakening. He had seen it in her eyes as he'd talked about Gwen, she was remembering.

He went back over to the bed and stretched out on the meagre mattress. Yes, that part of her was slowly coming back to the surface. She just had to stop denying it.

* * *

**A/N: Please let me know what you think! :)**

**Next update may not be next weekend as I have an exam on Monday. I'll probably post the next chapter that evening or on Tuesday :)**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Sorry for not updating last week. But exams are now over, and this story has also been completed! It's only a matter now of editing and posting the remaining chapters.**

**Hope you like :)**

* * *

"I don't understand it, Sire," the soldier was telling him, looking confused. "We've lost three month's worth of grain in these attacks, but the granary is just as full as ever!"

Arthur frowned as he looked around the granary. True to the man's words, the room was by no means short of sacks of grain.

"Is it just that our rationing has had a great effect?"

The man shook his head. "I don't think so Sire. It's almost as if the grain is multiplying itself. I take a sack out, and by the evening I could swear it's back again."

"That's impossible."

"I'm just telling you what I see, Sire," said the man scratching his head. "If the Wandrian are trying to weaken us by starving us, they're doing a very poor job. Our supplies aren't stretched at all!"

"I see," said Arthur, though he didn't see at all. He tried to seem confident, and as a proper leader should, but all he felt was confusion. He looked over at Gwaine who was inspecting the granary with him. He seemed just as confused.

Arthur turned to leave. "Continue … continue the good work, soldier. Camelot is depending on these food supplies and we need to be well stocked in case of siege."

"I think we will be, Sire," replied the soldier. "The last two wagons have come in safely, and if anything the supplies are even more abundant than they were before all of this started. I don't understand any of it."

_Neither do I, _Arthur thought to himself, and he left the granary, Gwaine following.

He waited until they were a good distance away before turning to Gwaine.

"What do you make of it?" Arthur asked him, desperate for some clarification. "How can we possibly have so much? We've barely had any stock coming in for over a month!"

Gwaine shook his head. "It doesn't make any sense to me, Sire. Unless …"

"What?" Arthur asked. "What is it?"

Gwaine bit his lip and looked uncomfortable. "It's just that …"

"_Yes?"_

He sighed. "When Merlin was still in Camelot, when he was telling me he was spying on the Wandrian and telling them where the wagons would be … one of the reasons I had believed he was on our side was because the supplies were not dwindling. He told me he was replacing the grain so the people wouldn't really starve."

Arthur frowned. "But Merlin is long gone. The supplies must always have been running low; I can't see Emrys going to all the trouble of attacking the grains supplies just to replace them again."

But even as he said this, he felt a small stirring of doubt. Gwaine was right. The supplies had _never_ been running low. They had showed no indication of it whatsoever. But why would Merlin have replaced the grain?

"All I'm saying, Sire," said Gwaine, "is that things don't make sense. Merlin's motives don't make sense. I mean, telling me he was replacing the supplies might tell us that he was only saying that to convince me, but the actual fact of the matter is that he was telling the truth. Why do that?"

"Maybe it was only some ploy to fool the Wandrian," said Arthur, "a way to get them onside and believing he was the one to join them. In any case, at that point he was still living in Camelot. He wouldn't have wanted to starve along with us."

"But he could have gotten food wherever the Wandrian are," said Gwaine. "And the supplies are still lasting even though Merlin's been gone for days now. I think there's some enchantment in that room to stop the supplies running low. It's the only explanation."

Arthur stared, and he involuntarily shuddered. An enchantment?

"That doesn't make sense either," he argued. "Why would Merlin still be continuing to replenish the grain supplies when he's far away and working against us?"

Gwaine hesitated. "I'm not so sure he is, Sire."

Arthur could hardly believe what he was hearing.

"You believe he's on our side?"

"I'm not sure what I believe," said Gwaine looking conflicted. "All I know is that there's something deeper going on here. And it almost seems as if Merlin was _helping_ us by using magic before and after he left."

Arthur's expression hardened. "He was using magic," he said flatly. "That is against the law."

"Should it be?" Gwaine asked. "I've lived in places where magic is legal and yes there is evil there, but not everyone-"

"I can't believe you are saying these things," said Arthur, watching him incredulously. "A group of crazed sorcerers is out there planning to kill us and you're trying to tell me that magic is not evil?"

"Dark Magic is," said Gwaine, "but not all. Merlin may be one of those. He may only have joined the Wandrian in desperation because of the isolation he felt from being denied the freedom of his magic. It could be that he's not really on their side."

Arthur went cold as he heard this. Was it possible?

"You're saying," said Arthur slowly, "that I may have driven Merlin away from the kingdom because of my views on magic?"

Gwaine nodded. "You can imagine why, Sire. What it's like to feel alone and afraid and want to belong somewhere. The same thing happened with Morgana didn't it?"

Arthur felt the old pain in his heart flare up. "She is irredeemable," he said quietly. "She turned against us and drove my father to the brink of insanity."

"But maybe Merlin can still be saved," urged Gwaine. "Perhaps he's not fully lost? You remember the way he was before he left? He looked tired, strained, unhealthy almost. He was tormented, Arthur. If he was really evil, he would've been happy wouldn't he? He wouldn't have cared what happened to Camelot. But he was suffering, like he was trapped in a situation he could not escape from. No one can fake illness like that."

For one fleeting moment, Arthur allowed himself to hope, to believe that what Gwaine said was true. But he couldn't.

"And what about when he confronted us?" asked Arthur. "He didn't look so uncertain when he was telling us his true name."

"Perhaps he was just trying to impress that other man that was with him?"

"Or maybe, he really is the Emrys that we fear," said Arthur, trying to shove down his feelings of hope. He knew he would just end up disappointed.

"I don't think so," said Gwaine. "Before he left, I saw him in the library looking at the old prophecies of Emrys. If he was so delighted at being this legendary sorcerer, why was he looking them up in the dead of the night as if he was uncertain of his destiny? I spoke to him then. I saw nothing but strain."

Gwaine hesitated. "He doesn't use Dark Magic, Sire. And I doubt he'll ever be converted to it."

"And what makes you so sure?"

"I heard him when he was talking to Lancelot," said Gwaine. "He was adamant about not using it. At first I thought that was just because he was trying to get Lancelot on his side, but I have went over that conversation in my head a million times and I think now that he was being honest. The Dark Magic affected him badly, and I … I helped him guard against it."

"And how did you do that?" Arthur asked, watching him carefully.

"I gave him a tooth," Gwaine said, looking at his hands. "My father had once saved the life of Merlin's father, and Balinor had given him a dragon tooth as a protective talisman. I gave it to Merlin for luck that night, and he told me afterwards that he was able to use the tooth to guard against the magic because he was the son of a Dragonlord. He won't be driven mad by the magic like the others."

Arthur tied to take all this in without much success, so many thoughts, hopes and fears were running through his mind. Finally, he found one coherent thought.

"Just because he doesn't use Dark Magic, doesn't mean he isn't evil," Arthur managed to say after much confusion. "Look at Morgause! We can't assume he means us well."

"But-"

"Why did you tell me then, Gwaine?" Arthur demanded, interrupting him. "Why did you come and tell me that Merlin was meeting with Lancelot if you believe him to be innocent?"

"I acted rashly," said Gwaine, "and I've had a lot more time to think about it now. No matter how much evidence there is against Merlin, there is always something that contradicts that and makes me think there's something we're not seeing yet. And besides, in my heart of hearts, I still can't accept the fact that Merlin would betray us."

"Then that is your mistake," said Arthur, not letting on that he felt the same, "it is only wishful thinking on your part. We cannot get away from the fact that Merlin is still a sorcerer, whether loyal to the Wandrian or not."

"Then maybe it is your way of thinking that is flawed," said Gwaine softly. "Why is it so incredible for you to believe that magic may not always lead to evil? Do you honestly want to discriminate against an entire people because of a select few? Why can Merlin not be a sorcerer and still be loyal to Camelot? If he had hated Camelot so much, he would have done something about it rather than help you protect the city again and again. Maybe he just wanted the chance to prove that fact to you."

Arthur had no answer to this, and Gwaine knew it. He gave a brief bow, and he turned and left, leaving Arthur alone with his confused thoughts.

* * *

"Is there anything else, Gaius?" Gwen asked, pushing aside the bowl of food Gaius had given her. "Anything in the Council meetings that could be useful?"

Gaius sighed. "I'm afraid not. They don't discuss supply routes in Council anymore; it's left solely up to a couple of people to increase security. They're still searching for the Portal of course, but that will hardly be helpful to the Wandrian- they already know where it is."

Gwen slumped. "I need something to give to Merlin! If he doesn't have any useful information to give them …"

"He'll be fine," said Gaius, leaning forwards and placing a withered hand over hers. "Merlin has a knack for getting out of sticky situations."

Gwen nodded unhappily. "I suppose, but I'm afraid for him."

"So am I," Gaius admitted. And Gwen knew it was true; Gaius looked mentally and physically exhausted with worry. "But I know Merlin. He's more powerful than he lets on."

Gwen looked up. "Just how powerful is his magic? I'm assuming you knew about it all along?"

Gaius sighed, and glanced at the door. "I first learned of his magic almost as soon as he stepped foot in these chambers all those years ago. I fell from the balcony, and Merlin saved my life."

Gwen smiled, that sounded like Merlin.

"He was terrified when I told him I knew what he had done," said Gaius. "He was so afraid someone would find out about his magic. He thought of himself as a monster. And he hated the fact he had to hide away who he was and not knowing _why_ he was that way. He felt he was useless without magic, a nobody."

Gwen shook her head sadly. "No one should ever have to feel like that," she said. "He's gone through so much, and he's still so pure at heart."

"That's who he is," said Gaius heavily. "It's unfair he should have so many burdens, but he bears it better than most of us could."

"Hopefully he won't have to much longer," said Gwen. "The day can't be far off when he won't have to be afraid anymore."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "You're taking it awfully well, Gwen. Doesn't the magic make you afraid?"

She thought for a moment. "If it had been anyone else, then yes, I would have been," she said. "I've been afraid of magic all my life because of all of Uther's decrees. But … if Merlin uses it, it can't be so bad. And I know he'd never use it for evil. The more I think about it, the more I realise that it isn't the magic itself that's evil, it's the person."

Gaius smiled. "If only Arthur thought the same way as you do."

She smiled back, though the thought of Arthur made her sad. She wanted to speak to him so badly.

"Do you think he'd listen if I tried to convince him?" she asked Gaius.

He sighed. "I think any convincing will have to wait, Gwen. If you go trying to change his mind now he may get suspicious and you'd end up in a similar situation to Lancelot. We can't risk that, not now when there's so much at stake."

She nodded, but felt like screaming in frustration. Arthur _would _listen to her, he _would_ come around. But she couldn't count on that being an immediate thing. He was proud, and he had the weight of the kingdom on his shoulders. Even someone as good, forgiving and understanding as Arthur would need time to come to terms with all of this.

Then, almost as if by thinking about him she'd managed to summon him, in walked Arthur. Gwen leapt to her feet besides Gaius, realising too late that she looked like she was trying to hide something. Arthur didn't seem to notice however.

"Gaius," Arthur said, his tone regal. "I need your advice."

"Anything, Sire," bowed Gaius.

"I need your opinion on … magic," said Arthur haltingly. "I know this will be difficult for you to talk about what with recent events, but I need some answers."

Gaius looked up, intrigued. Gwen looked between the two of them. Gaius so far hadn't said anything publicly about Merlin being Emrys, and no one had questioned it, believing him to be terribly grief-stricken, as with Uther when his ward had betrayed him. Too late Gwen realised that Gaius didn't look in the least upset, just worried about Merlin's safety. She hoped Arthur wouldn't notice.

"What is it I can do for you, Sire?"

Arthur looked almost nervous. "It's … Sir Gwaine has reason to believe that there is some sort of enchantment on the grain supplies to stop them from running out. It explains why we haven't run short, but it seems adverse to everything the Wandrian have been trying to achieve. What is your opinion?"

Gaius took a moment to answer. "A spell is certainly possible, Sire," he said. "A simple replicating enchantment would suffice to replace the grain that is taken every day."

Gwen tried to make her face expressionless, and not as if Gaius had just told her the very same thing in detail half an hour earlier.

"But why?" Arthur asked, and he stepped closer, unable to hide the confusion in his eyes. "If Merlin is trying to starve us, why enchant the granary?"

"Perhaps he cast the enchantment to stop himself from starving but didn't have a chance to remove it before he left?"

Arthur took a step backwards shaking his head, watching Gaius closely. "You don't believe that," he said firmly. "I can see it."

Gaius sighed. "I don't know what to say to you, Sire."

"You think Merlin's on our side, don't you?" Arthur said. "You think this is all some elaborate plan of his to protect Camelot?"

Gaius didn't answer.

Arthur turned and laughed. "Is everybody insane? Merlin's actions speak for themselves!"

"Just think about it, Arthur!" Gwen said, unable to stay quiet a moment longer. "Why aren't the grain supplies running low? Merlin's protecting us! If you don't believe me then believe Gaius, who else knows him better?"

Arthur turned to stare at her, his expression incredulous. "Perhaps those who were closest to him were the most easily deceived," he said quietly.

Gwen shook her head. "You don't believe that, Arthur. I know you don't. You're thinking the same as us, you're just too afraid to admit it."

His expression hardened. "I am not afraid," he said. "You didn't see the look in his eyes when he told us he was Emrys. There was an evil there."

"He was trying to fool us!" Gwen urged. "To keep us oblivious as to his true intentions for our sakes and for his own!"

"He's been attacking our men in person-"

"And he hasn't killed a single one!" Gwen said. "He could have! He's prevented the Wandrian from killing us! Why do that if he's truly against us?"

"Don't ask me to explain how the mind of a sorcerer works," said Arthur harshly.

Gwen took a step back shaking her head. "You sound just like your father."

"Good!" Arthur said loudly. "This kingdom needs a strong leader right now. My father-"

"-would have killed Merlin many years ago if he could," said Gaius intervening. "Ask yourself: why did Merlin live so long in a dangerous city if he didn't have some good reason?"

"It could've been a ploy, gaining information-"

"You don't believe it, Arthur," said Gwen, softly. She looked into his eyes. "If you did you wouldn't look so haunted now. It isn't all black and white, Arthur. You're struggling to believe it, and for good reason. It isn't true."

Arthur watched her for a second, and for the briefest of moments, Gwen saw a flickering of doubt in his face.

"Go and speak to Lancelot," said Gwen. "Hear what he has to say-"

"Lancelot is a traitor," said Arthur flatly. "He willingly met with a wanted criminal and told him the secrets of the kingdom. That cannot be excused."

"He believes he is doing the right thing," said Gwen. "He's risked a lot for what he believes is in pursuit of the right course regardless of the consequences-"

"So, I'm a tyrant now?" Arthur asked angrily. "Lancelot is the leader of some new resistance I haven't heard about?"

"Just listen to him," pleaded Gwen. "He knew everything from the very start. He can answer everything if you'd only hear him out."

Arthur looked coldly at her. "He is deluded, or enchanted," said Arthur. "Or worse, a willing traitor. I have nothing to say to him."

"Since when did you become so cold?" Gwen asked furiously. Gaius stood forgotten in a corner.

"Since two of my closest friends betrayed me," Arthur answered.

Gwen felt furious tears spring to her eyes. "A good leader _listens_ to his people, Arthur! _All _of his people! Give Lancelot a chance-"

"Why do you care so much about Lancelot?" Arthur asked suddenly, a suspicious tone to his voice.

Gwen faltered. "What?"

"You seem very eager to leap to his defence all of a sudden," said Arthur, moving closer.

"You've imprisoned a man for no good cause," retaliated Gwen. "Of course I will defend him!"

"You're saying I'm an unfair judge?"

"Yes!" said Gwen. "You're seeing enemies everywhere! You have to take a step back and review the information with a clear head without leaping to conclusions!"

"I am the Prince," Arthur said. "You have no right to tell me what I must do."

Gwen recoiled as though she'd been slapped. She stared at him in horror.

"The Arthur I know would never speak to me like that," she said quietly.

"The Arthur you knew was weak and unable to make his own decisions," Arthur said, a strange deadened look in his eyes. "I am not that man anymore."

He turned and left the room, leaving Gaius and Gwen staring after him in shock.

Gwen turned to him, her eyes wide, a hand coming to cover her mouth.

"What's wrong with him, Gaius?" she asked desperately. "Why is he so different?"

Gaius sighed heavily. "He's had his sister, his servant and one of his closest knights all betray him within a few months, all the while his father, the one pillar he's leant on all his life lies wasting away and unable to help. He's lost, Gwen. He's doing what he thinks he must to be a good leader to his people, but really, he's just trying to shut away the part of him that still thinks Merlin is his friend. He can't allow himself to question his actions.

She sunk down at the table. "Well, we need to change that."

* * *

"Arthur really said that to you?" Merlin asked, surprised.

"Yes," said Gwen, and he could see the hurt in her eyes. "He's taking all of this very badly."

Merlin grimaced. "I wish there was another way."

"We all do," agreed Gwen, "but until the Wandrian are defeated and you can try and explain it to him in person …"

"Yeah, that'll work well," laughed Merlin, "telling Arthur about my childhood at sword point and tied to a stake."

"That wouldn't really happen."

"I know, I could easily stop him with magic-"

"That's not what I meant," said Gwen, smiling with a bit too much understanding in her eyes. "Arthur would never execute you."

"Who knows what Arthur would do these days," said Merlin sighing and sinking down onto a log. "I think I've done him more hurt than I ever intended."

"Better that Arthur's feelings are hurt than his city in ruins," said Gwen, sitting down beside Merlin in the light of the moon. "Never forget the bigger picture, Merlin."

"You're right," he said. "It's just hard to see it some days."

She linked her arm with his. "It's always hard when you're in the middle of it."

He smiled. "Thank goodness you're here, Gwen. Lancelot's a good man, but he's not exactly great at these comforting chats."

She laughed, and the very sound of it after so long in the darkness of the Wandrian's castle was like a breath of fresh air.

"I can imagine," she said softly. "But about the information …"

He groaned. "You don't have anything do you?"

"I've tried, Merlin," she said, sighing. "But everything's extremely top-secret. I'm not privy to most of what goes on. I know there's a garrison of Knights going to inspect the defences on the eastern borders tomorrow because Elyan's going, but that's it I'm afraid."

Merlin nodded. "I don't know what I can do with that. We might be able to ambush them on the way, you know, shake them up a bit, but the way the Wandrian are getting at the moment I'm afraid they might get carried away and kill someone."

"And … how it's going with Morgana?"

Merlin felt the weights on his heart once more. "I'm getting there," he said. "I can see the old her just beneath the surface. But she keeps shoving it back down again."

"Do you think you'll get her to join you before Samhain?"

"I don't know."

"What'll happen if you can't?"

Merlin sighed and looked up at the night sky.

"I don't even want to think."

Gwen was silent for a moment. The air was tense as they both contemplated the outcomes of what they were attempting.

"I can't believe you've never looked for credit," murmured Gwen softly. "That you're willing to do all of this for nothing."

"Not nothing," said Merlin, smiling at her. "You're safe, Gaius is safe, Camelot and Arthur are safe … as long as that stays the same, I'm willing to put up with anything."

She squeezed his arm and they sat there companionably for several minutes, Merlin relishing the little time he had in the tranquil forest before he had to plunge himself back into the nightmare that was the Wandrian.

"It's strange," he said. "Sitting here, it's almost as if there's no war going on at all."

"Wars don't last forever, Merlin," Gwen answered. "We'll create a better world at the end of it, where people like you and … Morgana, won't have to be afraid and alone anymore. This fight won't be in vain."

_No,_ thought Merlin, smiling at he looked at her and the simple kindness and friendship in her face, _if all else fails, at least there are still some who care about me. I can be happy one day.  
_

* * *

Morgana was fuming. She paced up and down through the little village a dozen times, still seething with anger from what Merlin had been saying to her. How dare he? How dare he suggest she didn't know who she was?

She had never been more certain. She was here, after so much suffering, less than a week from getting her revenge on the city that had caused that suffering. She was powerful, finally, she had control over her own life. This was her decision.

But was it the right one? Is this what Morgause wanted? Was this what she wanted?

Morgana felt her resolve weakening. Destroying the entire world? Getting rid of all the goodness in the land for the sake of revenge on one city? Did she really hate Arthur so much?

Night after night she dreamed of her old life in Camelot. Yet, they were not the nightmares she had had before. No longer did she feel trapped and afraid in her dreams. All she remembered were the good times, few that there had been. The times she had laughed with Arthur and Gwen and Merlin. The times she had had friends to laugh _with._ She couldn't stop thinking about it. The old days, and wondering if perhaps they weren't as lost to her as she thought.

Would Arthur ever really change? Was Merlin just deluded, or was there something he knew? He was the legendary Emrys, or so the Druids believed. Was it possible that he was the one person in the world that was capable of the impossible?

She cursed, and stormed off to the dead forest, trying to clear her mind. She couldn't let this happen. She couldn't let herself question her decisions.

She wandered aimlessly in the forest for what seemed like several hours. She felt like screaming. All she had ever wanted was to be free from her constant hiding. To not have to be afraid. But she was trapped here, just as she had been in Camelot. She was surrounded by disgusting individuals who were nothing but pure evil at heart, whilst the rest of the world was against her. And once they succeeded, she would be trapped on the Isle of the Blessed, the one place that would remain unaffected by the opening of the Portal. The world outside would be dark and evil. Was that really freedom? Or just another form of confinement? Was it worth it?

But did she still have time to turn back? No, she didn't. Arthur would never forgive her. She would never, ever be free. There was no point into deluding herself to thinking otherwise.

She found herself being lured to the centre of the forest, where the great tree of the Old Religion stood. She didn't want to go there, but some irresistible drive seemed to be pushing her towards there.

She saw it emerging through the trees, and felt that familiar surge of the magic in her veins as it reacted to the life force of the tree. At first, it had frightened her. But now she anticipated it.

This was the magic that she had. And Merlin was right in at least one respect; she had been afraid of it.

What hope had she ever had in convincing the world that magic was nothing to be afraid of when she was afraid of it herself? Was that why she was doing this? Like Merlin said, she was just some frightened girl trying to force the world into a less scary place.

She had always been afraid of the power that existed inside her. If she hadn't been, would she be here now?

Suddenly, a new presence of the magic came to her attention. Curious, she started navigating around the massive trunk of the tree to the other side. About half way around, she saw what it was she had sensed.

It was Merlin, sitting between two great roots of the tree as he always did, and in his hands was a bundle of flames that he was enchanting into many different forms. He didn't look up; he seemed entirely unaware of her presence.

Her first instinct was to turn around and leave in disgust before he saw her there and tried to pin down her appearance to some greater meaning, but she found herself transfixed. She watched with curious eyes as the flames in his hands twisted and spiraled into shapes of animals and birds that soared through the air. Their fiery forms left trails of sparks in the air, which seemed to glow like the light of many crystals in the light of a dying sun.

She watched, and found herself unable to look away. She had never seen magic like this before.

Morgause had tried to teach her of course, but complete control of magic was something that had always eluded her. Now she knew that was due to the prophecy, but it had never ceased to frustrate her. She could light a flame, but anything like _this …_

Morgause had shown her magic, many powerful things and spells she could use to influence her enemies. But she had never used anything like this. Never before had Morgana seen such beauty in a spell.

She watched the fiery birds swoop through the air, and felt a curious longing feeling ignite in her heart. If only she could be as free as that.

Morgana had always been so afraid of her magic, she could never see the beauty in it, only the power to destroy and conquer. Merlin it seemed, was the exact opposite. He saw things she couldn't. Was that why he was always so insistent that there was some part of Morgana that was worth saving?

As if he had heard her thoughts, Merlin suddenly looked up. The flames in his palms were extinguished. He didn't smile, or look surprised. He just met her gaze calmly. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he had known she was there the entire time.

She scowled, and immediately turned and hurried off through the woods, not really caring what direction she was going; she just wanted to be as far away as possible. He was deliberately trying to unnerve her. That was it. That was the only reason she was feeling so suddenly different and emotional.

It had to be.

* * *

**A/N: Updates will be regular, I promise!**

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	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

Gwen wrung her hands as she walked through the castle corridors early in the morning. She was nervous; there was no hiding that. She and Merlin had agreed late last night that the only useful bit of information she could give to the Wandrian was about the Knights going out on a garrison inspection this morning. Since her brother was leading that particular excursion with Gwaine, Leon and Percival in tow and Merlin had warned that the Wandrian were getting restless, she was worried sick.

They weren't entirely defenceless however. Merlin had come up with something that may be able to help. He'd managed to create a new form of potion in the endless hours he had to spend in the realm of the Wandrian and he had given it to her last night. According to him, the enchantment he had placed on the contents of the bottle was enough to combat Dark Magic to at least some extent if applied to the blade of a sword. It would penetrate the Dark Magic shields and may give them a slight advantage, or at least, even it up a little.

He'd come up with it after examining the shields of the Wandrian on every previous attack, but due the lack of availability of ingredients in the Wandrian's castle and the suspicious Elder Merlin called Wrecan, he'd only managed to create enough for one bottle. Gwen had stayed up all night, applying Merlin's potion to the swords of as many Knights as she could, sneaking into Knight's chambers while they were asleep (including Arthur's which had been terrifying in itself) and then applied it to as many swords in the armoury that the potion would stretch to. Elyan, the rest of the Knights going on the mission this morning, plus Arthur, now had a sword with this potion applied to it.

However, Merlin wasn't entirely optimistic. According to him, on every previous attack, the Wandrian had managed to overpower the Knights there long before they'd even had the opportunity to draw their swords. The potion may prove to be useless.

And since this attack didn't involve seizing grain supplies, the Wandrian had nothing but the soldiers to focus their attentions on …

Her stomach tightened with worry, but she forced herself to remain calm. Merlin would be there. He would protect them all. She had to have faith in him.

She heard a commotion out in the courtyard and hurried outside. She saw the Knights preparing to leave and her anxiety rose up inside of her again.

"Come to see me off?" Elyan asked her with a smile. This turned to a frown however when he saw her worried expression. "What's wrong?"

"I-I'm just worried," she answered truthfully. "The Wandrian-"

"What reason would they have for attacking us?" Elyan asked, placing a hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "We're not carrying anything of value. They won't target us."

But Gwen shook her head, feeling her heart race. That wasn't true. She knew otherwise.

"Just be careful?" she begged of her brother, pulling him into a tight hug. "Please?"

He laughed softly and hugged her back. "I promise."

He let her go and smiled again, before turning and mounting his horse. She tried not to let her anxiety get the better of her. Merlin would protect him, she knew he would.

"Don't I get a hug?" Gwaine asked, ambling over leading his horse. He raised an eyebrow. "Or is it just for family?"

Normally, Gwen would have had some witty retort ready for him, but now she forwent that. She reached out and pulled Gwaine into an equally tight embrace whilst he froze with surprise.

"Now, what did I do to deserve that?" he murmured, looking into her face, his expression a little too perceiving.

"Just look after yourself," she said to him, "and Elyan. Don't let anything happen to him."

He nodded, but he looked suspicious. "What makes you so sure we'll be attacked?"

She hesitated and her mouth fell open as she tried to find something to say. His eyes widened a little as he took in her expression. Her eyes flicked to the sword at his waist as she wondered whether or not her and Merlin's plan would work. He saw her glance.

"Gwen?"

"Come on, Gwaine!" her brother called from astride his horse. "We haven't got all day!"

Gwaine glanced at Elyan and then back at Gwen, suddenly understanding. He looked at her in a new light. He knew.

"Be careful?" Gwen all but whispered to him.

He nodded, still looking unbelieving, and then he turned to mount his horse. He sat there looking a little bit stunned.

Gwen held her breath. Would he say anything? Did he know in his heart that Merlin wasn't evil?

Elyan motioned for the Knights to follow, and he galloped out the courtyard and out of sight.

Gwen watched them go, her heart heavy. _Please Merlin, protect them._

* * *

_He was in the throne room. His knights were with him, barricading the door against the barrage of sorcerers trying to force entry._

_It was in vain._

_With one massive explosion the huge oak doors were blown off their hinges and in marched scores of black robed figures, all carrying the stench of death and decay._

_Arthur and his knights drew their swords, but they were blasted out of their hands. The leader approached Arthur and began to laugh. His face was like a skull, rotten fragments of skin barely clinging to the bone._

"_At last, we have succeeded," he cackled. "Camelot is ours."_

"_Not yet," growled Arthur defiantly, "not while there are men still here to defend it."_

"_Your defence is pitiful, Pendragon, it does not stand a chance against the might of the Wandrian."_

"_Do you want to test that theory?" Arthur asked, squaring up to the man without fear, despite knowing he and all his men were without weapons. "Camelot will never fall to evil."_

_The Wandrian began to laugh, an awful chorus of insane laughter that chilled him to the bone._

"_It already has, young Pendragon," said the man, his black eyes leering. "Is that not so, Emrys?"_

_Another black-robed figure stepped forward and lowered his hood._

"_Yes, it already has," laughed Merlin, his own eyes black as pitch with skin as rotten as the man next to him._

"_No."_

_Another voice, softer, rang out from behind Arthur. He turned to see another familiar figure standing there, dressed in the same simple rags he'd always worn._

"_Don't believe it, Arthur," Merlin said to him, the uncorrupt Merlin. "You know I would never betray you."_

"_I am a sorcerer," the other Merlin said, still laughing. "Why on earth would I be on your side?"_

"_Because I am your friend, Arthur," the good Merlin said to him, taking a step closer. "Sorcerer or no, I will always stick by you. I would rather die than betray you."_

_Arthur looked from one Merlin to the other, pulled in both ways. _

"_Which of you is real?"_

"_That is for you to decide," said the good Merlin, smiling. "We are both possible, but which do you believe in more? Have faith in yourself, Arthur."  
_

* * *

Arthur woke with a yell, noticing at once that he was drenched in sweat. He sat upright in bed and buried his head in his hands. Which did he believe?

He sighed and got out of bed and moved over to pour himself some water. He knew which part he'd _like_ to believe, but whether that was possible …

He heard the sound of hooves in the courtyard and moved over to the window to see the patrol leaving. He noticed Gwen standing there watching. She knew what she believed, but was she deluded? Or was she seeing the truth?

He threw down his goblet, angry with himself for being so indecisive. He couldn't keep going like this.

Lancelot was even now locked in the dungeons of the palace, still determined that Merlin was on their side. Should he talk to him like the others were telling him? Or would that just serve to confuse him more?

Lancelot insisted Merlin was on their side despite being a sorcerer which Arthur found near impossible to believe. And Guinevere was also now saying these things. Had he influenced her in some way? Just what made Gwen believe in him so much? Was it her natural tendency to see good in others, or was there something deeper?

He dismissed this train of thought. There was nothing going on between Lancelot and Gwen. He trusted her.

Then again, it seemed that almost everybody these days was trying to betray him.

He cursed and began to get dressed, noting Merlin's absence with the usual pang of sadness. Would he always be suspecting people now?

He sat down. But Gwen wasn't the only one saying these things; Gwaine and Gaius were also raising points of questioning, and the other Knights he could tell were not as convinced as they had been. It seemed time and the chance to properly think things through after the initial shock were beginning to change their minds.

He sighed. Regardless of Merlin's loyalty, the Wandrian were still an enemy. He had to defeat them. And that was what he should be concentrating on right now, not going around in pointless circles in his mind. That would get him nowhere.

* * *

Merlin could barely breathe in anticipation of what was coming next. He and several members of the Wandrian were concealed behind some trees at the side of the eastern road out of Camelot, waiting for the patrol to pass.

He'd given orders to all the sorcerers that no one was to be harmed. The only thing they were allowed to do was frighten them. The only thing was, Merlin didn't think any of them would be satisfied with that.

He was far more nervous now than he had ever been in one of these attacks. Without the object of attacking the grain supply, there was nothing to hold them all back. Most of them were insane anyway, they might get out of hand. And most were now questioning his loyalties; they wanted to know why he still insisted on no deaths. The people of Camelot were frightened enough, they argued, was it not now time to try and reduce their numbers before the attack on Samhain?

But, Merlin was counting on this attack to reduce the ranks of the Wandrian instead. He hoped with every inch of his being that Gwen had succeeded in helping him bewitch the Knight's swords. With any luck, a few of them may be killed today with Merlin's standing in the Wandrian still intact.

The moments passed like hours, and Merlin began to fear the Knights had pulled another trick and changed the route at the last minute. But, at long last, the sound of hooves rang out in the silent forest.

The Wandrian sorcerers that were by his side cackled as they heard and their black eyes glinted as they waited for the Knights to draw nearer. Merlin steadied his breathing. He had to plan this down to the last second.

The scarlet of the Knight's cloaks began to appear on the road ahead and Merlin tensed. Through the gap in the undergrowth in front of him, Merlin saw Elyan and Gwaine leading the procession. They were still unaware of the presence of the Wandrian. Time to change that.

With a flash of his eyes, Merlin caused a large tree branch to fall onto the road in front of Gwaine and Elyan. Immediately, they drew their swords, as though they'd been expecting an ambush. They leapt from their horses.

The Wandrian let out a fierce and terrible cry as they ran from the undergrowth and attacked the Knights. One ran directly at Gwaine, his hand outstretched ready to utter a curse-

Gwaine saw him. With one quick swipe of his sword, he lunged towards the sorcerer. A green flash indicated the sword passing straight through the sorcerer's shield as though it were water and it made contact with flesh. The sorcerer had only enough time for a look of horrified shock to cross his face before Gwaine finished him off with another blow.

Merlin allowed himself a small smile, still remaining concealed in the undergrowth himself. Gwaine looked at his sword in wonder. He turned to see that both Elyan and Leon had also managed to kill a sorcerer, their swords slicing right through the shields as though they hadn't been there. The shock was evident on all their faces.

The Wandrian themselves were also shocked, and some fury seemed to ignite within them and their black eyes glowed green as they let forth a mass of powerful magic in retaliation; now that three of their own had been killed, they had completely forgotten Merlin's orders to kill none.

But Merlin was ready for them. Whilst some of the Knights continued attacking the sorcerers with their modified swords, Merlin cast powerful shield charms over all of them. He stayed hidden, and watched with satisfaction after attack after attack was successfully diverted away from the Knights, almost as though they had been misaimed.

One sorcerer leapt at Gwaine. "Camelot scum!" he screeched and he let forth a powerful spell, more powerful than any had done before.

Realising this was more powerful than normal and his shields wouldn't stop it, Merlin leapt from his hiding place_:_

"_Hilderand!"_ he yelled, his eyes glowing golden. The spell was immediately forced away from Gwaine and back towards the sorcerer who cast it, who collapsed, dead.

Gwaine gasped, and looked around immediately. Merlin cursed; unlike the other shield spells which made it look as though the Wandrian simply couldn't aim well, that one had obviously been cast deliberately. He tried to duck away, but before he could, Gwaine saw him.

Their eyes met for a moment. Gwaine looked at him, a strange new expression crossing his face. He didn't look angry. He didn't look confused. It was almost as if he was seeing Merlin for the first time. Gone was the suspicion, the pain, the fury. His expression was open and calm. Merlin could almost feel Gwaine probing his mind, reading his deepest thoughts. Something had changed within him.

Gwaine took a step closer to Merlin. He opened his mouth as if to say something-

Suddenly, the two of them, distracted by their realisations, were aware of the sorcerer now leaping towards Gwaine, his eyes glaring green.

"_Acwellan_!"

"No!" Merlin yelled desperately, but he was too late. Before he even had the presence of mind to raise a shield, the spell from the Wandrian sorcerer had hit Gwaine full on the chest.

Gwaine cried out and fell to his knees, clutching at his chest which was now soaked with blood. He gasped for breath.

Merlin watched with paralysing horror as Gwaine turned to look at him, a grim, pained expression. He fell.

The sorcerer laughed with glee and raised his hand to deliver another blow but Merlin was ready this time.

"_Acwellan!_" he yelled himself, and the sorcerer who had cursed Gwaine fell down dead.

Merlin wheeled around to see Gwaine. He was alive, but only just. The wound was infected with Dark Magic. He would survive a few hours at least, but not much longer without treatment. He had to help him!

"Come, Emrys!" shouted another sorcerer, as he realised the Knights had them outnumbered.

_No,_ thought Merlin desperately, _he couldn't leave now. He couldn't leave Gwaine like this._

He saw Leon, Elyan and Percival run over to Gwaine who was lying on the ground which was now stained with his blood. They were trying to stem the bleeding, but Merlin knew it wouldn't work. He had to have treatment. And quickly.

Elyan looked up at Merlin, an agonised look of desperation on his features. Merlin knew Elyan wouldn't let him anywhere near Gwaine.

"Emrys!"

With great effort, Merlin turned to see the Wandrian waiting for him. Several were now dead, and they'd decided to cut their losses and scarper. Merlin should go with him. He couldn't give up everything he'd worked for now. Gwaine wouldn't want that.

He turned back to look at Gwaine, feeling the horror and guilt sink in anew. He couldn't stay, not now. But he'd be back.

Feeling such a pain in his heart that he never thought he could stand, Merlin uttered the words of the spell that would take him away from this place.

* * *

"What happened?" Gwen cried as she saw the Knights returning, a limp form slung over a horse, bloodied bandages across his torso.

"Wandrian," said Elyan grimly, his face like thunder as he leapt from his horse. "They got Gwaine."

"No," whispered Gwen in horror. Merlin said he'd protect him.

"Bring him to my quarters," said Gaius, who'd suddenly appeared in the courtyard. "Quickly!"

Elyan and Leon carried Gwaine, who was motionless, up the stairs and into Gaius' chambers. Gwen followed quickly, but dazed as though in a dream. How had this happened? How was this possible?

They set Gwaine down on the bed and Gaius bent over him, peeling off his armour gently and probing with his fingers as he took in the extent of the wound. Gwen stepped closer to see, and almost retched as she saw the damage; a massive great burn in the centre of his chest, the skin all around it rotten and black like she'd heard the skin of the Wandrian was like.

Gaius looked grave. "This is bad. The wound itself is not life threatening, but it's been infected with Dark Magic."

"Can't you do anything?" Elyan asked desperately. Gwen knew that as leader of the patrol he'd be blaming himself. But all she could do was blame herself; she had helped this happen.

"I don't believe so," said Gaius, taking a step back, his face creasing with worry. "I can try and ease the pain a little, but …"

This couldn't be happening, Gwen thought, as she collapsed into a chair. Merlin promised …

The door burst open, and Arthur came flying in, going white as he saw Gwaine's lifeless form.

"What happened?"

"We were attacked on the road, Sire," said Elyan, his voice monotone as he kept his eyes on Gwaine. "The Wandrian."

Arthur swore. "But what did they want? You were empty-handed! I thought they didn't kill anyone?"

"Apparently, they changed their minds," said Percival.

At that moment, Gwaine groaned and opened his eyes a little. As one, everyone in the room leaned in towards him, and Gaius ceased dressing the wound.

"Merlin …" Gwaine managed to breathe, before collapsing into a coughing fit.

"Take it easy," soothed Gaius, trying to steady him. "Don't try to talk."

Gwaine shook his head. "No … I have … to say …"

He looked up at Arthur, his eyes shining with both pain and determination.

"He … he saved my life …"

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Doesn't look like it to me …"

"No …" Gwaine said, his voice stronger. "Before … this ... he saved me from another spell … I saw him. He tried to help us. Sire … he's … he's on our side."

Gwen hugged herself tightly, feeling that she might just fall apart if she didn't. So Merlin had been there. He'd tried. And now Gwaine saw the truth. Only why had it had to be so late?

Arthur blinked and looked down at Gwaine in astonishment. "But … he led the attack on you didn't he?"

"I didn't see him until the very end," said Elyan interjecting, also looking confused. "He was standing over Gwaine. At first I thought he'd been the one to curse him, but … he looked just as scared and horrified as I felt."

"He didn't curse him," said Leon. "I saw the sorcerer who did. And as soon as he'd done it, Merlin turned around and he … he killed him. A single curse and he killed him. He looked angry."

"Angry because his orders had been disobeyed perhaps?" Arthur asked.

"No," said Leon, "it was more than that."

Arthur shook his head slightly. "But why would Merlin do that?"

"He was protecting us through the fight," said Gwaine from the bed, his voice growing weaker again. "The spells … they all seemed to miss us. He wasn't fighting us … he was helping us. Our swords …"

"What about your swords?" Arthur asked sharply, even as Gwen felt relief inside that her part in the plan had worked.

"They seemed to go right through the Wandrian's shields, Sire," said Percival. "Like they didn't exist. We managed to kill several of them."

"Like the swords were enchanted," finished Elyan, looking down at his sword again.

Arthur looked from Knight to Knight with increasing bewilderment.

"You mean, you all think that Merlin was deliberately trying to help you?"

"I'm not sure, Sire," said Percival. "But … like Gwaine said, Merlin didn't involve himself in the fight until the end. He could easily have killed us all. But he didn't …"

Arthur shook his head again, clutching at the table in front of him so hard his knuckles turned white. "This doesn't mean anything …" he said, almost muttering to himself. "He could have been helping you to make sure they didn't get carried away and kill you all before your time … or using you to kill off some of the Wandrian- he's not exactly best of friends with them is he?- he could be luring you into a false sense of security, or maybe he's just-"

"Maybe he's just on our side," finished Gwen, forcing Arthur to look at her. "Don't you see? It all fits!"

And for one moment, Gwen saw in Arthur's eyes, that he might actually believe her.

An agonised cry from Gwaine drew all their attention away. Gaius was once more frantically trying to tend to the wound; Gwen saw that the blackness had spread. Gwaine was now unconscious once more.

Gaius looked up at them severely.

"No more arguing in here," he reprimanded. "I need quiet, and so does Sir Gwaine. Continue this elsewhere."

"But he'll be alright?" Arthur asked anxiously.

The look on Gaius' face said it all.

Reluctantly, Arthur and the other Knights left the room, a look of horror mirrored on each of their faces. Gwen remained behind. Gaius looked up and opened his mouth-

"Don't even try and order me away, Gaius," she said, tearfully. "I helped this to happen, and I'm not about to leave him now."

"Actually," smiled Gaius, the worry lines on his forehead lifting a little, "I was going to ask you to fetch some hellebore."

She flushed slightly, before leaping up and fetching said bottle and brought it over to Gaius who began to apply it liberally to the wound. The flesh seemed to be getting blacker.

"Will he be alright, Gaius?" Gwen whispered, clutching onto Gwaine's motionless hand. "He's not going to …"

Gaius sighed heavily. "That all depends."

"On what?"

"Whether or not the Wandrian have realised what Merlin has done," said Gaius. "Because without him free to come here and help, Sir Gwaine will be dead by morning."

* * *

Merlin was barely repressing his panic as he stood before the Elders of the Wandrian. He had to leave here. He couldn't stay much longer. Gwaine needed him.

He knew what sort of spell that sorcerer had used on him, he'd seen it before in the in the fighting that went on amongst the Wandrian. He knew he didn't have much time.

But Hafela looked to be in no hurry. His pitch black eyes glimmered in anger.

"Eight sorcerers!" he screeched, putrid black liquid spilling from his mouth from the rotten flesh within. "You have lost us eight loyal sorcerers, Emrys! Our numbers are pressed enough as it is!"

"We were not expecting them to be so prepared," said Merlin, trying to sound his usual cold and calculating self around them, but struggling, such was his worry for Gwaine.

"You killed one of them yourself!" hissed Hafela. "How do you explain that?"

"He disobeyed my orders, Hafela," he said, as coldly as he could. "He did not deserve to live for that."

"They are my men, Emrys," said Hafela, trembling with anger. "They follow your orders only because I tell them to. You had no right to kill him."

"Then train your men better," retaliated Merlin. "He compromised the entire mission!"

"Really?" asked Wrecan, looking at Merlin with absolute revulsion, which was ironic considering the physical state he himself was in. "It seems to me all he did was kill some meaningless Knight of Camelot."

It took all that Merlin possessed not to strike him down there and then.

"It would have been far more effective to let him live."

"Why?" Gamol asked, wheezing. "You have yet to kill a single citizen of Camelot, Emrys. Why? Do you still have some loyalty to them?"

"No," said Merlin as firmly as he could. "I have my plan, Gamol. You have never questioned it before, why now? I am Emrys. Why recruit me at all if you would not listen to me? I know this city. I know how to make them afraid and how to strike out at their hearts and morale. And killing Knights is not one of them. All it does it inspire revenge. What we have to do is humiliate them, let the people lose faith."

"And how do you explain the fact that their swords penetrated the shields?" Wrecan asked, glaring at Merlin. "How did they manage that?"

"Simple," said Merlin, hoping his pre-conceived plan with Gwen would pay off, "my old mentor, Gaius. He was once a sorcerer. He must have enchanted the blades. He often used magic in secret in Camelot with me. It doesn't strike me as odd that he would do so again. Arthur may be entirely unaware of what he has done."

"You expect us to believe that?" Wrecan asked.

"It is the truth," said Merlin, glaring back at him. "How else do you explain it? If you're suspecting me again, don't bother. How could I have arranged this? Do you really think they would have accepted magical weapons from me?"

"Who knows what you get up to in those long hours that you spend away from the castle," sneered Wrecan.

"I will not be insulted like this!" shouted Merlin, trying to end the conversation, painfully aware that every passing minute was increasing the danger for Gwaine. "If you want to blame anyone, blame your men. Even without shields, they should have been able to defend themselves against _swords_, mighty Dark sorcerers that they are. I am leaving."

He turned to go, but Hafela stood, shaking with anger

"This conversation is not over, Emrys!" he commanded.

"Yes, it is," said Merlin forcefully, staring him down.

"How dare you-"

"May I remind you, Hafela," said Merlin, his tone rising, spurred on by his anxiety, "that you need me on your side if you want to open this Portal next week. You would do well not to turn me against you."

And with that, he spun on the spot and hurried out of the room before they could do anything else to delay him. He'd pay for his cheek later, he knew. But that didn't matter right now. He had to get to Gwaine.

He broke out into a run and moved as fast as he could through the village and then plunged himself into the darkness of the woods. If his estimations were right, Gwaine would still be alright, the wound would still be treatable. But he couldn't waste any time.

"Off somewhere in a hurry are we?"

Merlin turned to see Morgana leaning casually against a tree. He _definitely _didn't have time for this.

He kept moving. "Leave me alone, Morgana."

"Why so rushed?"

He spun around angrily. "One of my _friends_, is in mortal danger because of something I did to try and impress the Wandrian, and if I don't get to him in time he'll die. I need to help him, and you're not going to stand in my way. You see Morgana, I still care about the people I've left behind. I haven't sacrificed every last good feeling, every trace of remorse or guilt. You should try it."

And he turned and broke out into another run, leaving her shocked expression behind. He plunged a hand into his pocket and clutched onto the dragon tooth talisman Gwaine had given him for luck, the thing that had unintentionally protected him from the Dark Magic that threatened his sanity.

_Just hold on a little longer Gwaine.  
_


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews!**

* * *

Merlin was outside Camelot. He lurked in the woods and looked up at the city walls, illuminated in the early evening by the multitude of torches along its battlements. The guard was twice as thick than he remembered. Like that would stop sorcerers. _Arthur, you're so naïve._

He muttered a quick invisibility spell and hurried forwards as quickly as he could. He raced up to the front gates that were guarded by several alert and patrolling Knights. He was almost too afraid to breathe as he passed by them, wary for even the slightest noise. But fortunately, there was a slight wind that disguised his soft footsteps.

He slipped past the second lot of guards at the gates and hurried up the dark and empty streets of Camelot. He felt a creeping sensation of being watched as he moved quickly and silently as a mouse. He'd never seen the streets so heavily guarded. Patrols of three or more Knights passed every five minutes, searching everywhere for possible intruders. Merlin had to duck into doorways and slip into deserted alleyways several times until they passed. He cursed the delay; every second was precious, he didn't have time to play hide and seek.

After what seemed like an hour of dodging and avoiding, he entered the palace courtyard, also thick with guards, and darted up the passageway that led to his old chambers. He removed the invisibility spell as he came to the door. He knocked hurriedly. He had to make sure Gaius was alone.

The door was pulled open almost immediately and Gwen stood there on the threshold, her face drawn and her bearing tense. She seemed to fold with relief when she saw him.

"Thank goodness!" she breathed, pulling him inside after a quick hug. "Please, you have to hurry!"

He moved inside the dark chambers to find Gaius sitting on a stool beside the bed. He nodded to Merlin before looking gravely down at the body in the bed. Merlin gasped.

Gwaine's chest had a massive burn mark right in the centre, charred flesh surrounding the wound, with the skin immediately around it and rapidly spreading all through his body rotten and black with decay. If it hadn't been for the slow but steady rising and falling of his chest, Merlin would have sworn he was dead.

"Where have you been?" Gwen asked, hurrying over to Gwaine, and applying some more potion.

"The Wandrian," he explained, not taking his eyes of Gwaine.

"Do they know the truth?"

"I've managed to fend them off for now," said Merlin distractedly as he approached Gwaine and saw the full extent of his injuries. "How long has it been as bad as this?"

Gaius sighed. "The spread only became as extensive within the last hour. He's been in an out of consciousness all day. I haven't been able to do anything."

"You wouldn't," said Merlin, crouching down before Gwaine. "This is Dark Magic."

"You've seen this particular spell before?" Gaius asked.

Merlin nodded, and the silence that came with the nod seemed to speak volumes.

"I thought you said you'd protect them?" Gwen asked, sounding uncharacteristically tearful. "You promised …"

Merlin felt as though an ice cold dagger was being slowly driven into his heart. He was almost numb with pain and guilt washed over him like a wave as he looked at Gwaine. He had promised … why had he taken such a stupid risk? And right when it had looked like Gwaine had started to believe in him? How could he have let this happen?

Merlin felt himself get tearful, but blinked them away. "I'll help him," he said firmly. "I'm not going to let him die for my mistakes."

He reached out and placed both palms over the wound on Gwaine's chest, summoning as much magic as he could muster.

"_Hælan se egeslic__ wundian!"_

His eyes burned gold, and he felt the magic leave his body and surround the wound like a shimmering haze. He concentrated fiercely on healing the atrocity.

He finished the spell and gasped with exhaustion, slumping against the bed. He trembled with the exertion. He looked up, but saw to his dismay that the wound remained unchanged. Gwaine's breathing became ragged.

"I don't understand!" Merlin cried. "That should have worked!"

He shook his head and cleared his mind. He stood up and placed his hands back over the wound.

"_Hælan__ se wundian to se__þeaw__ foran!"_

Once again, he felt the magic burn his eyes golden and the energy leave his body and into Gwaine. He sustained the spell for as long as he could, his entire body shaking as he pouring as much of himself into the spell as was possible.

He released the flow of magic and cried out as the wave of weariness met him. Surely, now …

But, looking up, he saw that once again … nothing had happened.

_No_, he begged, _this couldn't happen! Not now!_

"_Hælan! Hælan!_" he cried desperately, his eyes a permanent gold as he cast spell after spell until he literally was close to collapse. Why wasn't it working?

He screamed in frustration and stormed off, hitting out with his hands at the table, sending several bottles flying and smashing against the walls. He felt blood seeping from cuts on his hands but he ignored them as the adrenaline coursed through him. He was shaking.

"It's not working, Gaius!" he said desperately. "The magic! I can't beat it! It's too powerful!"

He leaned against the table and closed his eyes, trying to fight the great tumult of emotion that was building up inside of him.

"It was my fault," he said softly. "I should have been paying more attention. I'm responsible. It's my fault …"

The room was quiet for a moment, the silence punctuated only by Gwaine's ragged breathing and the dripping of the contents of the flasks Merlin had smashed in his anger.

Then, Gwen moved. She came over to beside him and forced him to look at her.

"It isn't your fault," she said to him, her face tear-stained but determined. "You were doing everything you could, Merlin."

"No, I wasn't," he said miserably. "I got distracted."

"You can do this, Merlin," she said, leading him back over towards Gwaine. "I know you can."

"But-"

"No 'buts'," she said firmly, her eyes blazing. "It isn't going to end like this. He believes in you, Merlin. He was trying to tell Arthur as much before he fell unconscious. You can save him."

"The Dark Magic is too powerful for me," he said, feeling hopeless and despair wash all over him "I can't fight that."

"Yes, you can," she said. "Because if you can't, what hope have any of the rest of us got? You can do it Merlin. You have us. We believe in you, Merlin. Find your strength from the people who care about you. That's something that Dark Magic can never touch."

He stared at her for a couple of moment, their faces only inches apart as she stared him down with a beady look in her eye. Something there seemed to act as an anchor, pulling him back from the brink of despair, from the edge of reason. She held his face in her hands. He felt a sudden warmth, as though some of her inner strength was flowing into him through their connection. He felt stronger, invigorated.

He took a deep breath, and rid himself of the doubt, despair, hopelessness and fear that had been poisoning his mind. He stopped trembling.

He stood up and placed his hands back over the wound on Gwaine's chest. He felt Gwen at his side, and she placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. He took strength from her presence.

He closed his eyes, and summoned every facet of magic that was in his body, feeling it flow through him stronger and more powerful than before. He felt it like a raging fire in his veins. He felt it simmering just below his fingertips.

"_Hælan__ se ceorl, he beon freond,"_ he said, slowly and calmly. His eyes flashed golden.

The magic flowed freely from his body, and a golden hue surrounded the entire bed that Gwaine was laying in. Gwen and Gaius both gasped and took a step back, but Merlin remained where he was until the spell was completed.

The golden hue faded away and revealed Gwaine again, and the wound on his chest closed up before their very eyes. As they watched, the blackened flesh turned back to normal, and the stench of decay vanished. Finally, Gwaine lay there, without a mark on his body. He gasped slightly as the last traces of magic vanished from the air, before sighing and breathing slowly and deeply, as though in a peaceful sleep.

Merlin gasped with exertion even as Gwen laughed delightedly and reached up and kissed him on the cheek before pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Gaius looked on, a proud glint in his eye. Merlin collapsed into a chair and watched as Gwaine breathed normally. "I did it."

"Of course, you did," said Gwen. "I knew you would."

He laughed softly, and for several minutes, everyone in the room was just content to sit and listen to Gwaine's steady breathing.

Eventually, Merlin stirred.

"You said he believed in me?" he asked Gwen, hardly daring to believe it. "What changed his mind?"

"I don't think he was ever really against you, Merlin," she said, "he was just confused. And now he isn't."

"Good," Merlin smiled. "That's really good."

Footsteps outside the door made them all leap to their feet. Merlin got ready to cast an invisibility spell, but it wasn't needed, as the footsteps faded away again and they all breathed with relief.

"I should go," said Merlin. "We can't risk anyone finding me here."

Gwen nodded. "Will you be alright with the Wandrian?"

Merlin shrugged. "Probably. I won't have any information for them for a while, but they'll just have to live with that, I guess. I won't risk this again."

"Will Gwaine be alright now?" she asked, glancing back at the bed. "He's cured isn't he? I mean, he still looks ill, like there's a darkness over him."

Merlin smiled. "Yes, with some rest he'll be fine."

He hesitated, before making up his mind, and striding over towards Gwaine. He crouched down and looked into his face, now free of pain and suffering.

"I think you need this more than I do," he murmured.

He put his hand into his pocket and withdrew the dragon tooth talisman that Gwaine had given to him. He placed it in Gwaine's hand and closed it, making sure it was secure. Almost immediately, the remaining darkness that lay over Gwaine seemed to vanish and a new light came into his face.

Merlin stood up and watched over him for a moment before turning to leave. Gaius was watching him warily.

"Are you sure, Merlin? That was your only guard against Dark Magic!"

"He needs it more," Merlin reiterated. "The Dark Magic is gone from his body but it's still around, weakening him. If he's to recover fully, he needs it."

"But what about you?"

Merlin smiled. "I have the tree in the forest, the one Gehola uses. And besides, Gwen was right; I can draw strength from other things as well."

She smiled.

"Be careful, Merlin," said Gaius, sighing heavily and placing a hand on his arm. "Everything's coming together now. We can't afford to fail."

"We won't," promised Merlin.

* * *

Gwaine was in agony.

Angry red fire seemed to be burning away in his chest, searing every inch of his insides with pain beyond imagining. He felt a creeping darkness spread throughout his body, infecting him. It hung over him like a shadow.

He couldn't move. He could barely breathe.

When would the pain end? Would it ever end?

But it did.

Like a light appearing after a stormy day, the pain began to drain away. The fires were extinguished. A soothing sensation spread from his heart outwards. The pain was leaving him.

The darkness was lifting.

Slowly, and with great effort, Gwaine managed to open his eyes.

At first, he had no clue to where he was. He looked around the room and didn't recognise it. Was he still delirious?

Then, more things began to come into focus. He noticed a woman sitting on a stool beside the bed he was lying on. Her face became clearer the more he looked.

"Gwen?"

"Gwaine!" she breathed, grinning broadly. "Oh, I'm so relieved!"

"Um, great?" he said, still confused. "What happened?"

"Don't you remember? You were attacked!"

And then it came back to him. The Wandrian, the enchanted swords, Merlin …

He breathed out. _Merlin._

He looked back up at Gwen, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. "Merlin! He helped us!"

She did nothing more than smile. Gwaine's mind was abuzz.

"You knew didn't you?" he said to her. "Before we left, you knew there was going to be an attack. That's why you were so worried!"

She said nothing.

"You took over from Lancelot," Gwaine said, noticing how easily everything was falling into place. "You were helping Merlin."

Still, nothing.

"You- you must have replaced our swords or something," Gwaine said, remembering, "or got Merlin to enchant them. So we'd have a fighting chance against them. And Merlin gave us a split second's warning before they attacked. He protected us during the fight!"

She did nothing more than watch.

Gwaine felt such an exhilaration as he'd never felt before. "Why was I so stupid?" he asked himself. "Why didn't I see straight away? It was obvious! It was bloody damn obvious! Why did I let myself doubt? Gods, I've been such a fool."

He tried to sit up slowly as to not aggravate his wound and found he could do so without causing any pain. He looked over to Gwen.

"You never doubted for a second did you? I should've done that. How could I have done that to him?"

"I've been such a fool," he repeated, shaking his head. "Merlin did everything he could to help us during the fight. He …"

It was at that moment, Gwaine realised what was missing. A slow sensation of wonder crept over him as he looked down at his chest and realised the reason he hadn't been experiencing pain from his wound was … there was no wound.

He gaped at his unblemished chest, which had been burnt and black and rotten the last time he'd seen it. It was as good as new, the skin soft and utterly without a mark.

He whipped around to stare at Gwen. "But I thought this was Dark Magic? I heard Gaius say it! Why aren't I dead? Why isn't there even a scar?"

Still, Gwen said nothing. Her eyes flicked down to his right hand, which was clenched in a fist.

Slowly, he opened his right fist and saw to his utter astonishment, a dragon's tooth sitting there in the centre of his palm.

He looked at it for a dumfounded moment. The tooth. The tooth he had inherited from his father. The one he had given to …

"Merlin?" he asked Gwen, his voice weak in amazement.

She beamed.

Gwaine laughed, and found he couldn't stop. "Merlin! Of course!"

He sat fully up and swung his legs out of bed, still marveling at the absence of a wound. His fingers tightened around the tooth once more.

"Merlin did this," he said to himself. "Merlin has always been on our side. I think it's time we paid him back."

* * *

Merlin sat under the tree in the Forest of No Life, trying to postpone the moment that he had to reenter the castle of the Wandrian. Without the tooth, he knew it would be more difficult. But not impossible. He had to remember that.

The relief at Gwaine's recovery eased some of the pain he'd been feeling, yet he still couldn't forgive himself for putting them all into danger like that. What had he been thinking?

"Is he alright?"

Merlin jumped as Gehola approached from behind.

"Who?"

"Your friend, the one that got hurt."

"Yes, he'll be alright," said Merlin smiling, as Gehola took a seat beside him. "How do you know about him anyway?"

"I heard you and Lady Morgana talking," he admitted sheepishly. 'I didn't mean to, but I'm always in the forest, I hear most things."

Merlin leaned back. "You don't have to apologise. Actually, I should be being more careful. The Elders might hear me one of these days."

"I don't think so," said Gehola, "they don't leave the castle most days and they never go near the tree. It's too … good for them."

"I thought so," said Merlin, picking at a root on the ground. He couldn't imagine anyone so polluted and corrupted as them lasting even a few seconds in the shade of that tree. He looked back up at Gehola. "You know, the whole world isn't as dead and empty as this valley. Have you ever thought about leaving? I know you said you were always too afraid to before, but you'll have me to help you."

"You'd do that?" Gehola asked. "Take me away from here?"

Merlin smiled. "Of course. What other friends do I have in this awful place?"

Gehola looked down. "I've never known anything but this place."

"You can learn, you can find somewhere to truly belong," urged Merlin. "What's keeping you here?"

Gehola sighed. "My … my magic. I don't want it. And if I try and go out into the world with it, I'm afraid of what will happen."

"Nothing worse than what'll happen if you stay here," reasoned Merlin. "Why not come? You can't deny your magic, Gehola. It's a part of you."

Gehola frowned. "Actually, I'm not so sure it is."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," began Gehola, hesitating, "I never used to have magic. I mean, my aunt and my parents had it, and there was that legend about us being descended from the original users of magic but … I never really had it. Not until I was about ten years old and I started coming to this tree. I could never use magic before then."

Merlin frowned. "You mean … you just _got_ the magic?"

"I suppose," said Gehola absent-mindedly. "A sort of side-effect of the tree, maybe."

"I've never heard of that happening before," said Merlin, genuinely puzzled. "Everyone who has magic is born with it, and can be taught how to properly use it. But to be _given_ magic … it doesn't make sense. Are you sure you didn't have magic before?"

"Positive," said Gehola. "I could never use it. It used to make my aunt so angry that I couldn't learn Dark Magic, but I was happy. Then she died, and Dark Magic became a lot harder to bear so I started coming here, and suddenly, I was able to use it, to do small things. I never knew any spells till you showed up though."

Merlin thought this through long and hard. Gehola had actually gained the magic he possessed, just from close and sustained contact with this tree. It seemed it had done far more for him than just protect him from Dark Magic. He had been imbued with the very life force of the tree, the Old Religion itself. The magic from his ancestors probably had something to do with that.

Gehola was looking at him curiously, and somewhat alarmed. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," reassured Merlin as he stood up. As far as he was aware, Gehola was in no danger. As strange as this situation was, it seemed to work for him. He couldn't shake off the feeling however that something wasn't quite right. Hadn't Gaius said something about the pure magic of the Old Religion being too much for a person?

But, he decided, he wouldn't worry Gehola until he had some solid information.

Gehola frowned as he stood. "There's something different about you."

Merlin grimaced. "The tooth, I left it with Gwaine to protect him."

"But what about you?"

"I'll just have to manage as best I can," said Merlin. "You managed all these years, so will I."

"But there wasn't as much at stake with me," said Gehola. "We can't risk you being corrupted."

"I won't be," said Merlin. But he said it with a lot more confidence than he felt.

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review!**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!  
**

* * *

Gwaine hurried through the darkness of Camelot. It was now twenty four hours since Merlin had visited him and healed him from his wound, and Gwaine was now fully convinced of Merlin's loyalty. How could he not be? Merlin had risked everything to save him in the battle and then to come and heal him. And what's more, he'd left the tooth.

Gwaine's hand clenched over the tooth in his pocket and felt a strange emotion coursing through him at the thought of this tiny little gesture. He knew, and Merlin knew just how much this small, little talisman meant to both of them. And still he'd left it for Gwaine.

That tooth protected Merlin from Dark Magic, and had spent the last day removing the last vestiges of it from Gwaine's body. It was precious. Merlin wouldn't have given it up if there wasn't the good and loyal man they all knew still inside of him, never having left in the first place. He was now the way he should have been from the start, completely without doubt in his friend. He just couldn't believe how long it had taken him to get to this stage.

Gaius and Gwen had been with him all day as he shook off the effects of the magic, and they also turned away any visitors; after Gaius' rather grim prognosis of Gwaine's condition it would be sure to rouse suspicion for him to have recovered so quickly. If the three of them were to continue to help Merlin, it wouldn't do for them to go advertising the fact that Gwaine had been healed with magic. Gwaine still wasn't entirely sure where the loyalties of the other Knights lay. Although they now seemed more inclined to believe Merlin may be on their side, Gwaine didn't want to risk them turning him in to Arthur in a moment of self-doubt, much like Gwaine had done with Lancelot.

This was why Gwaine was scurrying about after dark, trying to stop anyone from seeing him. There was someone in the castle he had to talk to.

He entered the passageway that led to the dungeons and immediately stopped his sneaking and walked confidently towards the guards at the dungeon entrance. They raised their eyebrows when they saw him.

"Sir Gwaine! We'd heard you were injured!"

"I was," said Gwaine, trusting to the fact that Arthur had deliberately hidden the severity of his condition from all but his most trusted Knights, "but I am recovered as you see. I need to speak with the prisoner."

The guards exchanged glances. "The Prince said that no one was to see him."

"This is very important," said Gwaine, speaking quickly now. "The Prince's life may be in danger. He has given me full authority in arranging the protection of the city, and to uphold that duty I must speak with the prisoner."

The guards looked doubtful, but they relaxed slightly. "Very well, but please, don't be too long."

"I won't," promised Gwaine, slipping past them hurriedly, thanking his good fortunes.

From here it was a relatively short journey to the cell he was seeking. Lancelot was lying on a meagre bed of straw in the corner of his cell, which was lit by a small slit in the wall through which moonlight was streaming. Gwaine stopped before the bars.

"Sleeping on the job are we, Lancelot?"

Immediately, as if he hadn't been asleep at all, Lancelot leaped up and spun around, looking shocked. Gwaine was equally shocked. Lancelot certainly looked the worse for wear. His tunic was creased and dirty, his hair unkempt and he had a haggard look on his face. His eyes went wide when he saw who it was.

"Gwaine?"

"Still have your senses intact then? Good, we'll need them."

Lancelot scowled. "Why have you come? Trying to gloat after you turned me in? I'm surprised at you, Gwaine. I thought _you_ had more sense."

"Yeah? So did I," Gwaine said, looking sadly at the angry expression on his friend's face. "Looks like we were both wrong."

Lancelot's scowl vanished. He took a step closer. "Does this mean-"

"Yes," smiled Gwaine. "I've finally stopped being such an idiot and seen the truth. I was an idiot for ever doubting."

Lancelot grinned, and all the weariness from his face vanished. He came even closer.

"Took you long enough," he teased. "But how did you-"

"No time to go into that," Gwaine said, glancing around to make sure the guards weren't coming. "But we have a problem."

He withdrew the tooth from his pocket and Lancelot stared at it.

"Is that-"

"Yes," said Gwaine. "The thing that was protecting Merlin from Dark Magic."

Lancelot shook his head. "But how did you get it? Merlin _needs _that!"

"He gave it back," said Gwaine, "when I was ill, to help me. But you're right."

"We need to give it back to him," said Lancelot immediately.

"Gaius says it's too risky at the moment," Gwaine explained. "The Wandrian's trust in him is wavering. Gwen tried to meet with him a couple of hours ago but he never showed. Gaius thinks it's because he can't, that the Wandrian are watching him too closely. And anyway, he said to Gwen that I needed it more, to completely heal me. He might not take it."

"But that's the only thing protecting him!" said Lancelot urgently.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," Gwaine said. "Aside from Gaius, you were the only one to know fully what was going on from the very beginning, and Merlin talked more to you about it. What was it like for him? How did he handle it? I mean, we all remember what he was like, moody, tired, weak … but what did he _say?_"

Lancelot sighed. "Just that … that the magic seemed to be inside him all at once, like it was a great darkness seeping through him and whispering to him, that he could barely fight it off. That he felt it was trying to turn his own magic into darkness."

Gwaine breathed out. "That's not good"

"No," said Lancelot. "He said that every visit back to the Wandrian was like plunging himself into a nightmare, physically painful, exhausting and made him act in ways he wouldn't otherwise. That every time he came back it was like a breath of fresh air. Before he got that tooth, I was genuinely worrying about his sanity, Gwaine."

"Do you know where the Wandrian are?" Gwaine asked. "How we could get it to him?"

"The clearing that leads into their realm can only be reached by magic, remember?" Lancelot said. "There's no way."

Gwaine sighed. "I know. There's still hope though. Gaius told us about some youth that lives with the Wandrian that manages to stay unaffected. We hope he'll be able to help Merlin."

"I hope so," said Lancelot. "And I hope it'll last until Samhain. A Merlin turned to Dark Magic … it doesn't bear thinking about."

"Why? Because he'll be too powerful?" Gwaine asked.

"No," said Lancelot, shaking his head. "Because it means we will have lost him for good. He'll have lost everything that makes him who he is."

They were silent for a moment. Gwaine glanced back up the corridor.

"I should get back," he said. "I'm supposed to be languishing on my deathbed." He hesitated. "Sorry about this, but you'll have to stay where you are. Arthur isn't about to execute you, and we can't keep trying to get him to let you out or he'll suspect. And it's better for all of us if we don't try and bring all this all up again until after Samhain. Merlin needs people in Camelot, and if we keep on questioning Arthur he won't trust us and think we're deluded like you are. We can't risk it."

"I understand," sighed Lancelot. "I just wish I could do something useful."

"Me too," said Gwaine. "I want to just march up there and slap some sense into Arthur, but there's a chance he'll just throw us all into jail and then who'll be left to help Merlin?"

He nodded to Lancelot, and turned to leave, but stopped and turned back.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Sorry for turning you in. I was an idiot, and you were the wise one. Forgive me?"

Lancelot smiled. "If the next time we all go to the tavern it's on you, then alright."

Gwaine laughed, and left the dungeons feeling slightly better than he had been. Merlin was stronger than they all gave him credit for. The loss of the tooth wouldn't be his end. He wasn't stupid enough to have left it if he couldn't handle it. Gwaine had to have faith in him. Heaven knows he hadn't had enough of it these last few weeks.

* * *

Merlin woke up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily.

Shaking, he clambered off of his straw mattress and poured himself a cup of water, trying to erase the taunting images that had filled his dreams. He breathed deeply for a few minutes, trying to calm himself.

He noticed immediately that the wards around his room had decayed again. The magic he used to guard himself worked for a while, but Dark Magic slowly ate away at it, eroding it so that they became utterly useless at repelling Dark Magic.

Exhausted though he was, Merlin hurriedly renewed them. He knew he was tired and probably shouldn't be using so much magic in the state he was in, but he also knew that he was most susceptible during his sleep. At least during the day he could go to the tree; it would seem suspicious to the Wandrian for him to be sleeping out there as well. They'd know he was being worn down.

The last day had been tougher than he'd thought. He'd spent most of it at the tree with Gehola, but as soon as he'd gone back to the castle and answered to the Wandrian, all the awful feelings and darkness that had plagued him at the beginning of his encounters with them came rushing back. What was worse, the Wandrian seemed to be following him. Hafela was determined not to let him out of their sight. He couldn't risk going back to Camelot. They knew that his contact had been caught. There was no more apparent reason for him to go back now.

He had no idea whatsoever about how to seem to help them now. He couldn't lead any more attacks if he didn't know who was going to be where and when, and he couldn't risk the same situation with Gwaine. He knew where the outposts were, but again, he didn't want to risk it.

The Wandrian just wanted him kept in the castle, waiting for Samhain which was now only five days away. He knew it was also because they wanted him as exposed to dark Magic as possible; they'd believed they could convert him weeks ago and minimise the risk that they would turn against them. Merlin knew now that was a far greater problem than it had previously been.

But aside from the fact that today he could probably not be able to get to the tree at all, he wasn't too angry with his situation. Now that the moment she had been brought to the Wandrian for was rapidly approaching, the Wandrian were also reluctant to let Morgana out of their sight, which meant she was also going to be more or less confined to the castle, meaning Merlin now had more opportunity to try and get through to her. There was however, the greater risk of someone overhearing them.

Merlin sat back down on his bed and drew his knees up to his chest and tried to calm his racing heartbeat. His dreams had been a twisting torment of darkness and pain and it had barely begun to fade from his mind. He knew this would be difficult. Very difficult.

He just had to keep reminding himself of why he was doing this, and _who_ he was doing it for. Camelot, and all his friends were depending on him and he couldn't afford to fail.

* * *

"More Emrys! More!" Hafela screeched, his black eyes leering at Merlin, who was in the middle of some complicated spell. Merlin scowled and immediately released the magic.

"I'm doing all I can, Hafela," he said, his voice hard. Morgana thought Hafela was about to explode with rage.

"You are not!" he cried. "This spell cannot be fully mastered like this! You told us you wanted to learn more magic!"

"You told me it didn't have to be Dark Magic," Merlin said back, glaring at him. "I won't use it."

Hafela scowled. "The spell is better with Dark Magic,"

"Then I won't learn it," said Merlin simply, moving over to the table where Morgana and the rest of the Elders were seated.

Hafela also seated himself at the table. Wrecan was glaring at Merlin.

"What then do you intend to do with yourself then, Emrys?" he asked. "Not learning Dark Magic, not spying for us … what exactly is your purpose?"

Merlin turned to him. "You tell me, Wrecan. Why did you recruit me in the first place?"

"We intended for you to learn Dark Magic," Wrecan answered. "To assist us by _becoming_ one of us."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "So you admit to me that you lied when we first met? You told me it was not your intention to convert me."

"Of course we lied, Emrys," wheezed Gamol. "The best things in life are obtained by deception. The truth is so restricting."

The Elders broke out into grotesque laughter, as the rotten putrid masses that were their throats and mouths gurgled with disgusting black liquid. It was enough to make her retch. She looked across the table to Merlin and saw he was also fighting the urge to be sick. She watched him closely for a moment, noting how there were new black shadows under his eyes and how he seemed to now be more weighed down.

"There's something different about you, Merlin," she observed. His eyes met hers quickly, and she saw the exhaustion that was there.

"Yes, Emrys," said Wrecan. "I noticed too, there is less of a stench of the Old Religion about you."

"Perhaps you _are_ being converted?" Gamol asked, leering at him.

"Never," said Merlin immediately. "I like the way I look, thanks."

Gamol chuckled. "Believe me Emrys, when you are as blessed as we are, aesthetics are no longer important."

Merlin didn't answer. He was looking down at the table in front of him and Morgana saw a pained expression on his face. She was intrigued. The Dark Magic was affecting him. But why now?

She drew back, repulsed. What did she care? Perhaps a Merlin converted to Dark Magic would be less likely to continue his fruitless attempts to 'help' her.

But at the same time, the thought of Merlin looking like Hafela, black-eyed, skin rotten and stinking of decay made her oddly uncomfortable. For some reason, she didn't want that to happen.

He was suffering, she could see that. And only since he'd returned to the castle yesterday from wherever he'd gone, most likely Camelot. What had happened there?

"Regardless of whether or not you are converted to Dark Magic, Emrys," said Hafela, "you will still help us in our plans next week."

Merlin nodded, and Morgana had to keep herself from snorting; he had no intention whatsoever of helping.

"You know what you'll be doing?"

"No," said Merlin, looking at Gamol. "You're all so obsessed with secrecy and deception none of you has bothered to tell me."

Hafela scowled, but otherwise gave no indication he had heard. "Your role is not a large one. Morgana here will open the Portal, and the full power of Dark Magic will be unleashed. You are there simply to protect her, help her, deal with the Druids that seek to stop her. Then, after we have made Camelot our home, you will be free to do as you wish. You can assume a position of authority in Camelot, or you can leave. It will be your choice."

"And I'd like to see you avoid Dark Magic then," muttered Wrecan with glee. Merlin ignored him. He kept looking at Hafela.

"Why did you recruit me?" he asked. "Any one of you could do these things. Why did you want me specifically?"

"We already told you, Emrys," said Hafela. "We intended to convert you. You are powerful, Emrys. And with Dark Magic, you will be even more so."

"Besides," said Gamol. "It is not only Camelot that is against us. Every sorcerer in the land will be trying to stop us open the Portal. Many of them will be powerful, and you will have to contend with them as well."

Morgana felt a pang in her gut as she heard this. Every sorcerer in the land? Did that mean Morgause would also oppose this? Is this what she would want?

Merlin nodded. "Very well, but I warn you, I will not use Dark Magic. You have little chance of converting me in five days."

Hafela grinned, showing the rotten mass that passed for his mouth. "We shall see, Emrys."

* * *

Gwaine was bored.

He, Gaius and Gwen were poring over dozens of books in his chambers trying to find anything that may help them or Merlin. They'd realised that if Merlin wasn't able to get back and forth from Camelot, spying information would be of little use to him, so the best way to help would be to find this Portal and get the information to him. Perhaps that may give him some slight advantage. So far, they weren't having any luck.

Gwaine sighed as he pushed away some old book that Gaius said was Merlin's spell book. It was useless for this sort of research, especially as much of it was written in some unintelligible language. It didn't so much as mention Dark Magic or a Portal.

"There must be something else, Gaius," said Gwaine. "That book where you found the mention of the last time the Portal was opened, surely it's got a location?"

Gaius sighed. "Unfortunately not. The ancient writers were so afraid of what had happened then happening again they were too fearful to commit its location to writing."

"Why can't we find some Druids?" Gwen asked, shoving away a book of her own. "Surely they'll know where it is?"

"It's only an elite branch of the Druids that guard it," said Gaius, "and they're very secretive. Very difficult to find."

"Of course they are,' muttered Gwaine, "it would be too much fun if they were easy to find."

Gaius opened his mouth to answer, when suddenly the door banged open. Gwaine immediately leapt to his feet, ready for attack, but he was met by Elyan's astonished face.

"Bloody hell, Elyan," said Gwaine, breathing heavily, "you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Elyan did not laugh. He just looked Gwaine up and down in complete amazement.

"Gwaine!"

"Yes?" Gwaine asked, frowning. "Have you forgotten my name?"

Elyan's eyes widened. "But, but … you're alright! But yesterday … you were dying!"

Gwaine cursed internally. He turned to Gwen and Gaius who looked close to rolling their eyes. They'd remembered that Gwaine was supposed to be still in bed- he hadn't.

"Yeah," said Gwaine, smiling. "Gaius found some old remedy that helped. It's loads better!"

Elyan didn't look convinced. "But … that's incredible."

"Yes, it is," said Gwaine, trying not to wince. He noticed Gwen also looking uncomfortable about lying to her own brother. They'd decided it was safer not to try and tell them the truth.

Elyan laughed. "I was so worried, Gwaine. I've been tearing myself apart over it and here you are! Healthy as you ever were!"

"Not completely," said Gaius, intervening quickly. "He still has an awful wound on his chest and needs rest. But, yes, he is out of danger."

Elyan's grin broadened. "That's brilliant! Wait until I tell Arthur! He'll be so pleased. He's been worried too."

Gwaine grinned. "Nice to be appreciated."

Elyan ran excitedly out of the room and away, apparently to inform Arthur of Gwaine's miraculous recovery. Gwaine turned back to the others. "That was close."

"Indeed," said Gaius, moving forwards. "Now, take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

"Arthur will be here any moment. It'll be more convincing if you have a load of bandages under your clothes. And it would help if you actually lay down and looked less lively and more ill. It's not so easy with you leaping around like a new born lamb."

Gwaine grinned. "I can't help it. Whatever Merlin did, I feel amazing. Like he did more than heal the surface."

"It's the tooth," said Gaius, unwrapping some bandages. "It only worked for Merlin against Dark Magic because he's a Dragonlord and can draw magic from it, but although it can't protect you against Dark Magic, it can help you feel better because of its inherent magic. And you have a strong emotional tie to it as well which helps."

Gwaine withdrew it from his pocket and looked at it again. "I just wish we could get it back to him."

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter will be tomorrow.**

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	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

Merlin collapsed on the straw mattress in his chambers. He was shaking all over. He felt the darkness creeping throughout his body, seeping into his flesh. He could feel it hanging over him like a cloud. Like a literal weight in his shoulders, it exhausted him. He found his mind filled with tormented and haunting images that had been plaguing him all day.

He curled up and closed his eyes, just willing it all to go away, here in the relatively safe haven of his chambers. But even they weren't protecting him. The wards were wearing down faster than ever before, now that the Wandrian had stepped up their desperate last-minute campaign to turn him to Dark Magic.

He squeezed his eyes tighter together, trying to fight against the rising darkness and fear that seemed to permeate through the entire castle. _Just four more days, just four more days and you can end this._

But should he have to wait this long? The only thing that could open the Portal was Morgana.

She'd resisted conversion. No matter how close the old her was to the surface, she hadn't yet realised her true loyalties. Was it worth trying to convince her? Was it worth the risk?

What Lancelot had said came back to him now clearer than ever. Why not kill her? If he killed her now, the Wandrian would never be able to open the Portal. The world would be safe.

And he would no longer have to suffer like this.

The idea was tempting. Perhaps …

No!

The part of his mind that was still rational and clear cried out against this plan of action. He couldn't kill her. He couldn't become as ruthless as they were. The prophecy had said he could bring her back into the light and he had to believe in that.

The prophecy had mentioned that a death would mark Merlin's own descent into darkness, and only another death could stop it. If Merlin killed Morgana, he'd be succumbing to these dark thoughts. He'd go on such a downward spiral that only another death could bring him back. He couldn't let that happen. He had to fight this!

Also, killing Morgana wouldn't destroy the Wandrian. He needed a better plan to deal with everything in one fell blow. Turn Morgana against the Wandrian, and together, perhaps they could destroy the Elders and scatter the Wandrian, freeing their thralls and weakening the converts.

It had to work …

He cried out in frustration and he sat upright in bed, clutching at his head which was pierced by a splitting headache. The pain was almost too much for him to bear.

He leapt up from his bed and crossed the room and went out into the corridor. He didn't care how many of the Wandrian saw him now. He didn't care if they knew he was going to the tree; they knew after all that he didn't want to be converted. And besides, they couldn't stomach standing so close to it.

He had to leave this castle … he had to leave it …

Dark screaming shadows leapt up at him from every corner and Merlin felt as though they were pulling him back, inviting him into their world. They whispered to him, tried to lure him in. He found himself yielding to it ….

With great effort, he dragged himself away from the darkness in his mind and broke out into a run. He had to leave … he had to leave …

He burst out of the front gates of the castle and breathed in some fresh air, but even that was not a relief. The village filled with the grotesque figures of the Dark Magic sorcerers, their dead eyes black and their rotten skin peeling away was still before him. Their tortured and insane screams filled the air.

Feeling a cold and panicked sensation grip his heart Merlin kept on running. He ran and he ran, never stopping, feeling like he was fleeing from a deadly torrent of enemies. He couldn't stop. If he did, he'd be doomed.

He ran to the Forest of No Life, and gasping and staggering, he found his way to the tree, that precious tree of the Old Religion, the only thing that could protect him.

He reached it and … he knew no more.

He just collapsed underneath its branches and reveled in the glow of magic, reveled in the sheer peace it brought to his mind. He shook uncontrollably, but after a while, the tremors ceased and he was able to breathe normally again.

He sat up shakily and leaned against the trunk, trying to calm himself. The darkness that had been in his mind was now beginning to depart and leave his mind free of pain and torment, though the memory of it still lingered. It was like plunging a burned hand into ice cold water, relief, but not absolute.

He closed his eyes in weariness and leaned back. How was he ever to last four more days in this state?

He sat under the tree for he knew not how many hours. He tried to see if he could draw some of the magic from the tree into his body to guard him, but found he could not. Why? It frustrated him to no end. How could Gehola do it?

From what Merlin understood, the magic he possessed, and his very life force was from the Old Religion. But being mortal, the magic inside of him was not the Old Religion in its purest form, and so could be corrupted. Morgana also had this power, but because she was unable to control it to any great degree, it was _unable_ to be corrupted, it just existed inside of her. But with Gehola, it seemed he had the purest form of the magic, directly from the Old Religion itself, but Merlin had always thought that was impossible to contain within a mortal being. And besides, how was he able to draw that magic from the tree? Was the Old Religion granting him this ability? Why not do the same for Merlin?

"How do you do it, Gehola?" Merlin asked, groaning as he hid his head in his hands. "How have you coped all these years?"

"It wasn't easy," replied a small voice, and Merlin looked up, not at all surprised to find Gehola standing looking at him; it seemed Gehola was always here these days.

"But how?" Merlin asked, almost pleading. "How?"

"I don't know," said Gehola, looking at Merlin with a worried expression. "But you'll manage, Merlin. I know you will."

"And how do you know that?" Merlin asked miserably.

"Because you're Emrys," Gehola said, coming closer and putting his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "This is your destiny."

Merlin laughed hollowly. "I'm sick of destiny, Gehola. It's caused me nothing but trouble."

A terrified cry from the evil houses in the village rang out, faint in the distance, and Merlin doubled over again, screwing up his face in his revulsion. He would have to go back there. He would have to go back to that hellhole.

He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

* * *

Gwaine threw back yet another book. How many of these did Gaius have? And were they all this useless?

They'd stayed up most of the night reading, or in Gwaine's case, pretending to read, and still they had found nothing remotely useful. Gwaine was getting increasingly frustrated. He wanted nothing more than to just leap on his horse and ride off to look for the thing in person, but that would arouse questions. If the Knights and Arthur had no leads about where the Portal is, then there was no reason for Gwaine, who was supposedly still injured, to be out looking. It was a fix.

Gwen was lying with her head on an opened book having fallen asleep during reading. Gwaine watched her fondly for a moment. She had never doubted Merlin for a moment, and here she still was, loyal to the end. Merlin was lucky to have her as a friend.

He only wished he was of more use. He pulled the dragon's tooth out of his pocket and examined it yet again. Merlin was suffering right now because he had given up this artefact to protect Gwaine. He couldn't help but feel guilty. He put it down on the table and looked away. He couldn't bear the reminder.

Gaius came bustling over at that point with some meagre breakfast, looking exhausted himself. He shook Gwen gently awake and placed a bowl down in front of her.

"Come on, you should both eat, we've still got a lot of work to do," he said, settling himself down at the table after clearing a space on the table for his bowl.

Gwaine looked down at the food gloomily, but began to eat. It was food after all.

Gwen looked equally as unhappy. "It's four days until Samhain," she needlessly reminded them all. "If anything is going to help Merlin, it is the location of the Portal. We have to find it!"

"Or find a way of assassinating all of the Wandrian," said Gwaine, swigging back some water. "That would work."

Gwen held her head in her hands. "Everything's still so uncertain. Merlin needs to be able to convince Morgana to come back to our side, which is hard at the best of times, let alone now when he'll be exposed to Dark Magic. If he can't convince her, I suppose he'll have to kill her. Which means he'll have a very small window of opportunity to do it before she opens the Portal, and if the Wandrian suspect before then they're not going to tell him where the Portal is are they?"

"You don't need to remind us," said Gwaine, though he knew she just liked to voice her reasoning out loud. It was the only way any of them felt like they were accomplishing something.

Gwen frowned down at an ancient map of Camelot. "Hmm … the Portal wouldn't be marked on a map, so where is there in this map that could be hiding it, somewhere no one ever goes?"

Gwaine was about to answer, when he heard footsteps coming up the staircase. Immediately, he leapt up and threw himself on the small bed in the room, pulled a blanket over himself and tried to look as weak as possible, even whilst quickly chewing up the last of his breakfast.

It was only just in time, as the door opened, and in walked Arthur. He nodded to Gaius and Gwen, but went straight over to Gwaine, his eyes wide.

"So Elyan was telling the truth," he remarked, looking him up and down. "It's remarkable. You were at death's door only yesterday!"

Gwaine smiled. "I'm lucky."

But Arthur didn't smile back. He frowned. "It doesn't make sense," he said. "That was Dark Magic. Didn't you say Gaius that there was nothing you could do for him?"

"I was mistaken, Sire," said Gaius, moving over. "An old remedy reversed the effects of the Dark Magic, and the wound is now healing up nicely."

Arthur looked between Gwaine and Gaius suspiciously. "But you were so certain," said Arthur. "I saw your face when you looked at the wound. The situation was hopeless, you said as much! A wound like that can't heal so quickly. You shouldn't be like this."

"Oh well, I'm sorry I'm not dead," said Gwaine sarcastically. "But I'm feeling fine, much better."

Arthur nodded, but he still looked uncertain. Gwaine knew he was remembering back to what Gwaine had said after the attack; Arthur now knew Gwaine's sympathies lay with Merlin. Would that be enough to suspect …

But, Arthur turned and started to leave. He looked to Gwen and a small smile crossed his face.

"Have you been here the entire time?"

Gwen nodded. "I've been nursing him, ungrateful pig that he is. I wasn't going to leave until he was better."

Arthur smiled again. "I didn't expect you to."

A look passed between them then, a look of affection and yet pain at the situation they found themselves in. For Arthur, it was fear for Gwen's safety, for Gwen, fear that Arthur would never forgive her or the others for the actions they were still concealing from him.

Arthur sighed. "I should go, my father needs my attention. He's begun to get more lucid and explaining all of this to him will be … where did you get that?"

Gwen frowned and turned around, looking at the table. "Where did I get what?"

"This," said Arthur, stepping around her and picking up something small on the table. Gwaine could have kicked himself when he recognised it as the dragon's tooth.

"Oh, I uh-" said Gwen, flustered, but Arthur wasn't paying attention. He was examining it closely. Then he turned to Gwaine in amazement.

"This is a dragon's tooth," he stated, eyes fixed on Gwaine. "Where did you get it?"

For the first time in his life, Gwaine was completely lost for words.

Arthur looked incredulously down at the tooth.

"Is this it?"

"Is it what?" Gwaine asked nervously.

"The tooth that you told me about!" said Arthur loudly, taking a step forwards. "The one you told me that you gave to Merlin to help him guard against Dark Magic?"

Gwaine had nothing to say, except stare dumbly at Arthur, trying to find a way out of this situation. Arthur took his silence as confirmation.

"How did you get it?" he asked, his face hardening. "I thought you gave it to him?"

"I did," said Gwaine, looking to Gwen and Gaius for help but finding only speechlessness. "I found it again …"

"Where?"

"During the attack," Gwaine improvised wildly. "I found it on the ground."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You mean you stopped in the middle of a fight to pick up a tooth on the ground?"

Gwaine nodded. "Yeah, it … it … I just …"

Arthur clenched it tightly in his fist. "Is this why you're suddenly so sure Merlin is on our side? You think this little gesture is proof that Merlin is working for us? He pretended to help you in the fight, he left this to try and convince you. Don't you see?"

"Don't _you_ see?" Gwaine asked of Arthur. "Merlin isn't doing this to try and trick us! He's genuine!"

"No," said Arthur, and a pained expression crossed his face. "Merlin spent years in Camelot lying to us all. If he could fool us all then, he could be fooling us now."

"Us?" asked Gwen softly, stepping towards Arthur. "You mean you too are beginning to question it?"

Arthur jumped and looked speechless for a moment, and conflict raged in his eyes. "Of course not," he said, but his voice was doubtful. "I – I can't allow myself to. That's what he's trying to do. He's trying to play on our weakness for him. He's exploiting the fact that we all can't believe him capable of evil for his own benefit."

"You don't believe that, Arthur."

Arthur turned away from Gwen. He looked down at the tooth once more, and his resolve stiffened.

"This is what helped you, Gwaine," he said quietly. "Merlin left it to heal you so that when you woke up you'd be on his side again. I thought that the Wandrian suddenly starting trying to kill us seemed uncharacteristic. It was all a part of his plan."

"No," said Gwaine, shaking his head. "You've got it wrong."

Arthur scowled. "Don't question me," he said in a voice so filled with rage it didn't sound like Arthur at all. He looked at the tooth once more and slipped it into his pocket. "I can't let you keep this, Gwaine. Who knows what other spells Merlin may have put on it? It has to be locked away inside the vaults."

"No!" Gwaine yelled, sitting bolt upright. "You can't!" The tooth couldn't be locked away! They needed to get it back to Merlin!

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"Because … because … because it's mine!" Gwaine got out, desperately trying to think of a reason. "It belonged to my father."

"And it belonged to Merlin," said Arthur finally. "I can't let you keep it."

Gwaine leapt out of bed, but couldn't think of a good reason to contradict Arthur, so hung his head. "Very well, Sire," he said, a heavy weight growing in his stomach as he thought of what Merlin would have to go through if they couldn't get that tooth back to him soon. But what could he say? Sorry, but we have to meet up with Merlin to give it back?

Arthur nodded, but then frowned again. "Your wound … it's healed _remarkably _well."

Too late, Gwaine realised he had just leapt out of bed and moved around energetically without betraying the slightest sensation of pain. He winced; as if he wasn't suspicious enough. He put a hand up to the spot on his chest that Gaius had covered in fake dressings.

"Gaius gave me something for the pain."

Arthur nodded. "Must be quite something to help something like that," he said, and Gwaine detected another note of suspicion there. Gwaine hoped he'd just let it go; he couldn't exactly explain away the magical healing of his wound without being thrown in the dungeons along with Lancelot, Gwen, Gaius and any hope of helping Merlin.

Arthur turned, and he left the room. Gwen, Gaius and Gwaine watched him go, heaviness in all their hearts. How were they to help Merlin defeat Dark Magic now?

* * *

Merlin walked with Gehola the rest of that day, trying to stave away the effects of the Dark Magic in the only other way he knew how: laughter.

The first few times he'd come to the Wandrian, when he hadn't had the tooth, the thing that had kept him going was the thought of all the people he was fighting for, and the remembrance of all the good times he had shared with them.

And that was what he was doing. Walking around the outskirts of the village with Gehola, just talking, talking loudly to try and drown out the screams of the insane sorcerers. He rambled on about his childhood, about his mother and how he'd discovered his magic and used it as a child to play pranks. He went over his life in Camelot with Gehola, reiterating all the times he'd spent with Arthur, Gwen, Gaius and the Knights. Gehola was an eager listener and often asked questions and laughed at Merlin's anecdotes. But they both knew they were only postponing the inevitable.

The darkness, temporarily driven away by the visit to the tree, and the laughter with Gehola kept creeping back, like a weed in a garden that just won't go away. He felt it filling up his heart throughout the day, and laughter became harder and harder. His heart began racing and foggy visions passed before his eyes. He was shaking again.

He tried to shake this off, and asked question after question of Gehola, wanting to know more about his childhood, but this did more harm than good. Gehola's childhood had been hard, and filled with cruelty and neglect. All it did to hear this was rouse feelings of anger within Merlin, and the anger was only emphasised with the darkness that was filling him up. He felt almost murderous as he listened, and only with great effort restrained himself from striking out at the nearest sorcerer. He had to control this; he _had _to.

They reached the castle and Merlin knew, though how he wasn't quite sure how since it was always dark here, that it was time to turn in for the night. The thought of sleeping in that tiny, dark and cold room with his terrifying nightmares was almost too much for Merlin. Could he last another night?

Gehola bit his lip and watched him worriedly. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll have to be," aid Merlin, and tried to smile, though it came out more as a grimace.

"Poor little Emrys growing weaker then?"

Anger, a coiling, hate-filled anger rose up inside of Merlin as he heard that voice. He turned his head to see Morgana approaching from the village. He shook even harder and glared at her. _Strike her down_, something said to him,_ kill her, end this now. She is the reason you're suffering, kill her._

Morgana halted in front of him and looked at him uncertainly. "Merlin?" she said, looking almost afraid at the hostile glare he was giving her.

He took a step closer. _This was her fault, this was all her fault. If she hadn't turned against Camelot in the first place … she wasn't about to be brought back … he should kill her now …_

"Merlin, no!" Gehola shouted, pulling at Merlin, and for a moment, Merlin actually considered killing him as well. _Why not? He was in the way after all …_

He looked back at Morgana, and instead of the smug smirk she had worn earlier, she now looked afraid. And something within him broke.

He looked away with a tormented cry and fell to his knees, clutching at his head as though he could rid himself of the cruel voices in his head that way. He started breathing heavily and gasping for air, trying to slow his racing heartbeat. He rocked back and forth, not looking at either Gehola or Morgana._ He had to fight this … he had to fight this …_

He opened his eyes. He felt for the wall behind him and pulled himself to his feet. Morgana was watching him, her face filled with shock.

"Merlin?" she asked, "Are- are you alright?"

"Does it look like it?" Merlin spat, immediately losing his calm when she spoke. "Why do you care anyway? I thought you cared for no one?"

She took a step backwards. "What's happening to you?"

"Why do you care?!" Merlin repeated, looking away from her and fighting the new pains in his head. "Go! Leave me before I kill you now!"

He heard her gasp and take a few more steps backwards. "This is because of me?" he heard her say softly. "Because of what you're trying to do?"

He laughed, a cold and cruel laugh that was so unlike him. "Yes, Morgana. Because you're so selfish and misguided. And I can't leave here until I know you're on our side. So, it looks like I'm stuck here forever then doesn't it? Because you certainly aren't coming to some epiphany any time soon are you? I should have known. You're just as heartless as everyone said you were. I'm wasting my time and my sanity. I'm going to go crazy waiting for you."

"Then leave!" he heard her cry, though her voice wavered slightly. "I don't need you here! If I'm causing you so much pain, then leave. You're not going to turn me."

He looked up and met her gaze again, feeling hate and anger once more spring to life within him.

"That's the thing," he said, struggling to contain his emotions. "I can't. I can't leave here knowing you're still in their power. This is my _destiny. _I'm cursed to stay here. And it looks like it'll soon be for nothing."

Morgana paled and took another step backwards. She watched him in horror, and for a moment, gone was the heartless cold woman who'd turned against Camelot, and there was the woman Merlin had once known.

The next second however, she was gone.

"I hope it will be-"

"Go!" Merlin shouted, and his eyes glowed golden as flames sprung to life in his hands. She started, and made off in the opposite direction, looking confused.

As soon as she was out of sight, Merlin collapsed to the ground again.

"I can't handle this, Gehola," he said, shaking his head. "I can't do this."

* * *

Arthur sat watching his father the next morning, worry weighing down his heart. Uther had awoken several hours earlier, and, after demanding food be brought to his chambers had listened in detail to everything that had been going on despite Arthur's misgivings about telling him everything in his fragile condition.

But, it appeared his worries were unfounded. Uther, for the first time in so many, many weeks appeared completely sane and in possession of his faculties. He had the old sharp intelligent glint in his eye. And the old temper.

"Can't believe it," he muttered for the hundredth time that morning. "He was among us the entire time. A traitor lurking in our midst."

"I know," said Arthur, sitting in his chair numbly. Explaining it all to his father had been harder than he had thought. So many emotions, so many conflicting opinions …

"Pure evil," Uther said, pushing back his plate. "And to think, I actually _made_ him your servant! How he must have laughed at us. Well, no longer. He will pay one day. I will make sure of that."

Arthur had no answer for this. He put his hand into his pocket and found the tooth he had taken from Gwaine. Despite his reasons for removing it, Arthur hadn't yet had it confined to the vaults. There was something about it, some comforting presence that seemed to sooth his greatest anxieties and fears. He thought again and again about what Gwaine had told him. Could it be true? Could it possibly be true?

Of course it couldn't, he reprimanded himself. He was turning into Gwaine, deluding himself into believing something that couldn't possibly be true. He just wanted it to be true so much …

He removed his hand from his pocket. He'd get rid of it at the next opportunity. He couldn't let his judgment be clouded. Not now that his father seemed finally to have recovered, and not a moment too soon; Arthur had been close to collapse.

Uther stood up and moved over to the window, looking out over the courtyard below.

"You have done well, Arthur," he said. "Handling betrayals is no easy feat …"

He trailed off, and Arthur winced as he saw a spasm of pain cross his father's face. He knew he was thinking once more about Morgana.

"I did what I had to, Father," he replied.

Uther nodded. "And now you will have me to help you bear these burdens. I shall arrange for the execution immediately."

Arthur stood up quickly, his heart oddly contracting in pain. "Of Merlin? Hadn't we … hadn't we catch him first?"

He felt his breathing quicken, why did the thought of executing Merlin make him so uneasy?

Uther glanced at him. "Yes of course, he shall be executed in due course. But I was referring to the other traitor in our midst."

Arthur frowned. "Other traitor?"

Uther nodded, looking bewildered that Arthur wasn't grasping his point. "Yes. I know you had to make a spur of the moment decision all those weeks ago when … when the city had been taken by … by Morgause. But knighting those commoners was not one of your better ideas."

Arthur went cold as he realised what his father was saying. "You mean …you want to …"

"Lancelot willingly betrayed this city," said Uther, looking back out of the window. "And for that he must pay with his life."

Arthur reeled in horror. "Father, no …"

Uther frowned as he turned around. "Why do you defend him? Do you deny that he told the enemy our secrets?"

"No," said Arthur quickly, "he is indeed guilty of that. But his reasons must be taken into account. He was deluded, or perhaps even enchanted, into believing that Merlin was on our side. He should not be so severely punished for poor judgment."

Uther laughed. "You must be jesting, Arthur. Even the lowliest thief has his reasons for committing his crime. Does that mean we should excuse all of them? A Knight of Camelot, though I hesitate to use the term for one of lowly birth like him, should know better than to consort with sorcerers."

"He's a good man," said Arthur, getting desperate now, recognising his father's stubborn attitude with a sudden fear. "He would never have done it if he hadn't thought he could save Camelot."

"What he did may have brought Camelot's destruction-"

"He did was he believed to be right-"

"I will hear no more of this!" his father said, raising his voice, and Arthur knew he could no longer argue with him. "Lancelot is guilty of betraying this city. Tomorrow at dawn, he will be executed."

Arthur knew the conversation was over. Numb, and feeling like he was still trapped in the same old nightmare, he nodded.

"Yes, Father."

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! Next update will be soon, I won't leave you on a cliffhanger like that :)  
**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

**Just one thing I'd like to say: I have explained countless times in this story and Author's Notes and PMs why Morgana is not affected by Dark Magic and Merlin is, and I'm fed up getting reviews and PMs, often quite rude, telling me that my story is ridiculous. I admitted before, this story has been written over two years and there may be a few inconsistencies, but I've deliberately tried to include explanations again and again to reinforce certain things. If you don't understand or think it's unrealistic then re-read those chapters, or better yet, just 'go with it'. I'm also getting quite annoyed at the amount of Gehola hate. Gehola is NOT more powerful than Merlin, his magic is simply DIFFERENT from Merlin's. This will be explained in future chapters. I get that he's not a popular character, but that's just the way the story goes, and he will prove to be very important.**

**Sorry for that rant, but constantly defending myself and my decisions was one of the reasons I gave up on this story at the beginning; I was completely put off writing for a long time. I'm sick of deleting nasty and insulting reviews about my characters and plot. If you want to criticise me, then feel free, but please do it in a civilised manner.**

**Again, sorry for the rant, hope I don't come across as arrogant. I would just appreciate constructive criticism rather than nastiness from people who don't even leave their name so that I can reply to them.  
**

* * *

"You're joking!" Gwaine said to Elyan, staring at him in horror. "Please tell me you're joking."

Elyan shook his head, looking tired. "I heard it myself. Uther has ordered Lancelot to be executed tomorrow morning."

Gwaine looked back to Gaius and Gwen who were standing frozen in Gaius' chambers. Gaius had gone pale and Gwen's hands were over her mouth. She shook her head weakly, and looked tearful.

"He can't!" she said, looking pleadingly at her brother. "He can't do that! Lancelot didn't do anything!"

"He betrayed us to the Wandrian," said Elyan firmly, though Gwaine could see the uncertainty behind his eyes. He too was unhappy with the way things were going.

"He's innocent, Elyan," Gwen said. "Lancelot and Merlin. They both are. You know that."

Elyan fixed her with a long stare. "But what can we do?" he asked. "Uther is the king."

"He's been insane for the last several weeks," said Gwaine. "He's probably still not recovered. Arthur could stop the execution by saying his father's still ill and not able to give orders."

"Why would he?" asked Elyan, and his eyes were a tumult of conflict. "Lancelot _was_ giving information to an enemy of Camelot."

"Merlin is not an enemy of Camelot," said Gwen fiercely. "You know that, Elyan. I can see it."

Elyan stepped back, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter what I think," he said, his voice pained. "There isn't anything we can do."

And with that, he left the room.

Gwaine wheeled around to face the others. "Yes there is."

"What?" Gwen asked, looking afraid. "What can we do? Arthur's still doesn't believe us."

"He wouldn't execute Lancelot," said Gaius, sinking down into a chair. "That isn't who he is. But if his father tells him to … he's bound to follow his father's edicts."

"Aren't you going to listen to me?" Gwaine asked. "We need to break him out."

"Out of the dungeons?" Gwen asked. "How?"

"It's been done before," said Gwaine, "a lot more times than I think Arthur likes to think about. It's possible. Of course, if Merlin were here it'd be a lot easier."

"I've tried contacting him every night" said Gwen. "But he doesn't answer me. The Wandrian must be stopping him from leaving."

"Then we'll have to do it ourselves," said Gwaine. He moved closer to the two of them. "We have to get him out. We'll send him off somewhere he'll be safe. We'll need him before the end I think. He may be able to help us with Merlin."

"But how will we get him out?" Gwen asked. "How will we do it without getting caught?"

Gwaine sighed heavily. "That's the thing. I think we're going to have to leave with him."

Gwen gasped. "What?"

"It's three days to Samhain," Gwaine said. "We haven't found a thing, and if I'm honest, I don't think we ever will. Arthur is suspecting us, and if the final battle comes, we're going to find it difficult to try and get to him. If we want to help Merlin, we have to get out of the city, and bring Lancelot with us."

"But where would we go?"

"I don't know," Gwaine said honestly. "Anywhere that's away from the city. Then we'll just have to find some way of contacting Merlin. Maybe Lancelot will have a few ideas."

"You're leaving a lot to chance," said Gaius, stepping closer.

"We have to try," said Gwaine. He grinned. "And besides, I like a bit of risk."

* * *

Arthur's heart beat time with the sound of his boots as he strode down the corridor that led to the dungeons. Was all of this really happening? Was he sure that this was not all some great dream? It couldn't be real.

He passed the guards and entered the dungeons. He didn't halt in his rapid pace until he found the cell he wanted. The occupant looked up and leapt to his feet.

"Arthur!"

Arthur held up his hand to silence him. "You've been told, then?"

Lancelot nodded, his eyes wild. "Arthur, please, you can't do this."

"Are you so afraid of your own death?" Arthur asked, watching Lancelot with dead eyes. _This couldn't be happening._

"No," said Lancelot desperately. "I am afraid for your sake, for Merlin's! I need for you to see the truth Arthur!"

"I already see it, I have no doubt in my mind," lied Arthur. "Merlin is evil. You betrayed us to him."

"You're lying, Arthur," said Lancelot. "I know you are. If you knew that to be true you would have executed me right away. The reason you hesitated was because you doubted it. You allowed yourself to consider the possibility that I may be telling the truth. You're not as certain as you say you are. Your actions betray you. Don't burden yourself with second guesses. Allow yourself to see the truth that you know in your heart."

Arthur shook his head and took a step back. "You're wrong," he said quietly. "It's following my instincts and blind faith that got me into this mess. I have to use my intelligence, my mind. And right now that's telling me something different than you."

"Then if you're so logical," said Lancelot, "look at all the facts that just don't add up, all the contradictions. You know I'm right!"

"I don't know what to believe," said Arthur truthfully.

He turned to leave.

"I'm sorry," he said honestly. "I didn't want this to happen. But I can do nothing."

He began to leave and Lancelot continued shouting after him.

"Yes you can, Arthur! You don't have to follow your father's rules. You know as well as I do that he is blind to reason. You can change all that, Arthur! All you have to do is find the courage. Don't do this, Arthur! It will destroy you, and Camelot along with it!"

But Arthur kept going, feeling an icy cold dagger pierce his heart with every step that he took. How could he do this to him? How could he turn his back on his friend like this? Someone who had risked his life to save his own? Had sworn loyalty and allegiance to Camelot? He was a Knight. He was one of Arthur's own. He couldn't do this to him.

He stopped at the entrance to the dungeons, feeling physically sick. He had to stop this. He had to force his father to see sense.

One of the guards looked up. "Are you alright, Sire?"

"Yes," said Arthur curtly, immediately regaining his composure. He couldn't allow the men to see his weakness.

The guard nodded. "He seems to be getting awfully riled up down there. Funny, he wasn't as bad the other night when Sir Gwaine came to see him."

Arthur looked around quickly.

"Sir Gwaine?'

"Yes, Sire, two nights ago. Came down to see him, said it was really important. Left looking quite pleased with something."

Gwaine had been to see him? Arthur was reeling with shock. Were they all in this together? Were they all trying to turn against him in defence of Merlin?

But were they right? Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, and most of all Gwen … was it possible they were all deluded?

Or was it just possible that they were onto something that Arthur was refusing to allow himself to see?

* * *

Morgana wandered through the Forest of No Life, stepping on dead branches and leaves, searching for the man that was sending her to the brink of insanity.

What on earth was wrong with Merlin? He'd been fine just a few days ago, the Dark Magic seemed not to affect him at all, so why now was he acting like this?

Why she cared, she wasn't sure. But it was a mystery, and one she was determined to solve.

In due course, she found the tree she had been searching for, and felt the now familiar effects of the tree's magic. The magic inside her reacted to its presence and she shuddered at the vitality of it running through her veins. Such power …

She tried to ignore it however, and soon, underneath the great branches, she saw the man she had fully expected to find here. He was hunched over with his knees drawn up his chest and his head bent. His face was concealed, but Morgana knew that it was haggard and worn, with dark shadows under his eyes. He was trembling slightly.

He twitched slightly as she drew nearer. "I'm not in the mood, Morgana," he said without even raising his head to see who was approaching. "Leave me alone."

"What's wrong with you," she demanded, holding her ground. "What's happened?"

He laughed. "Like you care."

"I do," she said, the words spilling from her mouth before she could stop them. "I mean, I want to know why you're suddenly so affected by the Dark Magic. I need to know for my own sake."

He laughed again. "Of course, you do. You want to know whether I'll have been turned to Dark Magic before Samhain and whether or not you'll need to kill me to stop me preventing you opening the Portal. Is that right? Or is there some trace of genuine concern there?"

Morgana said nothing, trying to figure out for herself what she meant. She was lost for words. Why did she care?

Merlin raised his head and looked at her, and she frowned. He looked even worse than he had yesterday, his face lined and gaunt, looking dramatically older and more haunted than she could have thought possible in such a short period of time. She was shocked to see his eyes were watery. It caught her off-guard.

"Why is this happening to you?" she asked horrified, taking a few steps nearer.

"I had to give up the only thing protecting me to save a friend," explained in a dead tone.

"But why?" she asked, taking in his appearance. "Why?"

"Because he needed it," Merlin said. "He would die without it."

"You obviously need it too," noted Morgana.

He smiled. "Perhaps. But I couldn't let him die. I had to give it to him."

Morgana scoffed. "Noble self-sacrifice? Is this how you're trying to convince me to follow you?"

"No," said Merlin, "I'm just telling you the truth. Make of it what you will."

"Fine," announced Morgana, walking over and sitting near him on a low branch, flinching at the surge of magic that came from the tree on contact. "Then I say that you're a fool."

"A fool for trying to save a friend?" Merlin asked, watching her with wearied eyes. "There was once a time when you would have done the same thing."

Morgana tried to ignore this and the painful memories that sprung up at his words. "It is weak," she said, avoiding his eyes that seemed to be piercing into her. "You have put yourself in danger for them. If you fail now, they will die anyway. There was no point."

"I have to try anyway," Merlin said, and Morgana could still feel his eyes on her. "I'm their only hope."

"Just leave," Morgana whispered, unable to bear his looks anymore. "Just go! Go back to Camelot and end this. There's no point."

"I'm not leaving without you."

Morgana looked up, her eyes blazing, but oddly, filled with tears. "I will not come!" she cried. "I have to do this. For my sake, for my sister's, for all our people!"

"All _our_ people will be slowly destroyed if you do this Morgana," Merlin said. "You know, it's madness."

"You're wasting your time," said Morgana, as Merlin's tortured eyes continued staring at her. "Just leave and stop putting yourself through this."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that concern for my well-being? Or is it guilt that you're the sole reason I'm staying here and putting myself through this torture?"

"Neither," declared Morgana, but she felt herself weakening. She wished he would stop staring at her. The darkness was hanging over him. She could see the pain in his eyes.

She stood up and turned away. "I weary of holding this grudge against you, Merlin," she said, not looking at him. "Leave now, and save yourself. I don't care anymore about what happens to you. Just leave me alone."

He stood up also and stood behind her. "Yes you do. That's why you want me to leave. Because seeing me like this is making you feel things you wish you didn't, shame, guilt, pity … well I'm not leaving Morgana. Not until you come with me, and we destroy the Wandrian. We can build a better future for our people. Give us a chance, Morgana. This is destroying any last chance our people have. Forget about Camelot. Whether you can forgive them or not, you're not just destroying them by doing this, but _everything_. You don't want that, Morgana."

"You have no idea what I want," Morgana said. "Because I don't know myself."

And before Merlin could say another word, she took off and found herself stumbling back towards the village, feeling tears stinging at her cheeks.

_He was wrong, he was wrong …_ She didn't pity him. She didn't care whether or not he lost himself because of the Dark Magic. He was inflicting this upon himself, it wasn't her fault.

Just three more days. Three more days and she would be on the Isle of the Blessed with Morgause. Then nothing could touch her. Least of all servant boys with an uncanny ability to see straight into her soul.

* * *

Gehola was worried. Merlin had steadily gotten worse and worse over the last two days, and even the visits to the tree weren't helping him stave away the Dark Magic. Unlike Gehola, he seemed unable to harness the power directly from the tree, and the Wandrian wouldn't let him spend so much time there. He was literally trapped.

It was nighttime now, and Merlin had gone back to the castle after another day spent at near collapse and darkness and pain. Gehola stood outside, he had to do something.

Merlin had very nearly lost himself yesterday and tried to kill Morgana, and today, his temper was even shorter. Gehola was genuinely beginning to fear that Merlin wouldn't be able to last until Samhain.

But what could he do? There was a guard permanently stationed at the clearing that was the only way out of the valley. He was under orders not to let Emrys leave. Merlin couldn't get out; he was doomed to spend his time here.

He needed to get that tooth back, Gehola decided, looking up at the dark windows of the castle and wondering which of them that Merlin was in, even now in agony and shadowy nightmares. It was the only way to help him. Without it …

But how could he get it back? The tooth was in Camelot, and Merlin couldn't get there.

But perhaps Gehola could.

Acting on impulse, Gehola turned and ran from the castle, filled with a new sense of purpose. It was dangerous, he knew that, but he had to do this for him. He had to help Merlin. Unbidden, memories of the last time Gehola had tried to go to Camelot to help Merlin sprang to his mind; it had caused more trouble than good. But still, it was the only way.

He raced through the forest, barely feeling his way in the near pitch darkness. The moonlight shone up ahead and Gehola burst through the trees and out into the clearing. It appeared to be empty. He prepared the spell to take him to Camelot.

"What are you doing here?"

Gehola jumped and turned around to find one of the Wandrian sorcerers coming towards him. He tried not to panic.

"I'm just leaving," Gehola said, willing his voice not to waver. He couldn't afford to be afraid, Merlin was depending on him. He could be brave. "Don't worry, I'll be gone in a minute."

"Where are you off to?" the sorcerer asked, stepping into the moonlight, and now Gehola could recognise him as Wellan. "Hafela doesn't want people leaving."

"I thought that was just Emrys?" Gehola asked, trying to sound innocent. "I'm no trouble, Wellan. I'm going to visit someone."

"Visit?" Wellan asked suspiciously. Gehola nodded. Wellan looked bewildered, but it was hard to tell; his face was so rotten. He was one of the older sorcerers, and there wasn't a piece of flesh on his face that wasn't rotten in some way. He'd already lost one leg to the magic and leaned on an ancient staff. He frowned in confusion. "Who would you have to visit?"

Momentarily, Gehola was stuck. What should he say? He decided to take a risk.

"My aunt," he answered casually. "She lives in Odin's kingdom. I said I'd meet up with her before Samhain. She wants to be kept up to date."

Wellan frowned. "Your aunt? I thought … I thought …"

"Thought what?" Gehola asked, trusting to the fact that Wellan's memory and insanity were severely weakened for his lie to work. "You remember her don't you?"

"Yeah," said Wellan, looking dumfounded. "But I thought she'd died."

Gehola laughed lightly, forcing back his panic. "Died? Don't be silly! She left years ago to go to try and find converts! Don't you remember? She's even been back a few times since."

"Has she?" Wellan asked, looking more and more puzzled. Gehola held his breath; he just had to keep confusing him, making him second guess himself. Wellan had never been too bright, and the Dark Magic had been eroding away at his mind even more these last few years.

"Of course!" Gehola said. "I really should leave, Wellan. I'm going to be late, and that'll make her angry. You remember how angry she gets? She won't be happy with you for delaying me."

Wellan's black eyes widened with fear. "Of course … well, I suppose … Hilda was always a strong ally … visiting her won't do much harm …"

He looked up at the moon, and seemed to be thinking hard. "Go," he said finally. "But be back before morning. Hafela only said Emrys and Morgana shouldn't leave, no reason why you can't, especially to visit one so blessed with the Noble Art. Tell her … tell her I let you come."

Gehola nodded, relief seeping through him. His aunt had been dead for years. Wellan was even more thick than he'd thought.

Then another thought struck him. "Wait," he said, frowning. "Did you say Emrys _and _Morgana? Why doesn't Hafela want her to leave?"

Wellan shrugged. "To stop her getting cold feet, I think. He doesn't want to risk anything this close to Samhain."

"You mean, he thinks Morgana may betray us?" Gehola asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Are you going or not?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" Gehola said hurriedly, and uttered the spell to take him to Camelot.

He had to tell Merlin this. If Hafela thought it possible Morgana was turning, surely that was the good news he needed?

* * *

"So how are we going to manage this?" Gwen asked Gwaine, standing in the streets of Camelot, and looking doubtfully up at the castle. "Shouldn't we have a plan?"

Gwaine shrugged. "I never have a plan, other than 'we need to get Lancelot and leave.'"

Gwen rolled her eyes and looked worried. She clutched at the small bag she had brought with her in preparation for leaving Camelot. "I hate the idea of sneaking off like this. It'll make us look like _we're _the bad ones. Maybe we should have tried talking to Arthur again-"

"You know Arthur, Gwen," said Gwaine, still fixing his eyes on the castle. "He'll try and put it off for as long as possible, and only try to stop it at the last moment."

"He might have tried to help us break him out of the prison," said Gwen. "Even if he still doesn't believe us about Merlin, he doesn't want Lancelot to die."

"And how are we supposed to help Merlin, and go to find him with Arthur?" Gwaine asked. "It's better if it's just us. True, Arthur would try and help, but he's not fully on our side. We have to manage this ourselves."

Gwen nodded, but looked miserable. "I hate this … I hate this …"

"So do I," admitted Gwaine. He hated the idea of sneaking around and seemingly betraying his prince and his city. He knew it must be even harder for Gwen; both the man she loved and her own brother would think she betrayed them. But what choice did they have?

"So what are we going to do?" Gwen whispered to him.

By answer, Gwaine turned around and sneaked off down through the lower town, motioning for Gwen to follow. He flitted from shadow to shadow, avoiding the patrols that marched through the streets, waiting in darkened doorways for them to pass. Gwen followed in his footsteps, alert for any passing guards. Eventually, they reached the outer gates.

"What's your plan now?" Gwen whispered to him.

Gwaine thought for a moment, and pulled Gwen into the doorway of a nearby house. "Be ready to run when I say so."

She nodded, and he reached into the barrel beside him, left over from the market. He found a large potato and weighed it in his hands, waiting for the opportune moment. It came.

He reached up lightly out of his hiding place and threw the potato as hard as he could across the street where it crashed into a pile of armour, and knocked over a flaming torch that then set fire to a bale of hay.

The guards at the gate cried out in alarm, and they all rushed forwards to try and help, calling for water and more men. In the commotion, Gwaine seized hold of Gwen's hand, and together they ran forwards without looking back and slipped out of the city gates. He continued running until they found some relative shelter in amongst the trees just outside the city walls. There, they stopped to catch their breath, and Gwaine looked over his shoulder to check they hadn't been followed. They hadn't.

Gwen looked indignant. "A potato? A potato managed to trick the men guarding the gates of Camelot when we're at war? They don't stand a chance against the Wandrian!"

Gwaine nodded. "True, but I think the ineptitude of Camelot's guards actually worked in our favour here."

He crept out from his hiding place. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Gwen asked, as they crept through the forest, following the line of the city walls. "How are we supposed to rescue Lancelot out here?"

"The grate that leads to the dungeons," answered Gwaine. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a small key. "After Merlin used it to break out the Wandrian prisoner from the dungeons, Arthur put me in charge of repairs. We installed a new set of metal grates, and I have the only key."

Gwen stared. "But what about the guards in the dungeons? Do you honestly think Arthur will have left that place unguarded when it's proven to be a weakness?"

"We'll worry about them when we come to it."

"_Gwaine!"_

"Well, what else do you suggest we do?" Gwaine hissed back. "We're not Merlin. We don't have magic to help us."

Gwen remained silent as they found their way around the walls to the small grating that covered the entrance to the dungeons. As the approached, Gwaine noticed two guards standing either side. He cursed.

"Now what?" Gwen asked him.

Gwaine didn't know.

He retreated with Gwen to a safe distance from the walls to think. How was he supposed to get past them? He had his sword, certainly, but these men were not his enemies. He couldn't kill them. Gwen looked just as stumped as he was.

They sat there for several minutes, each trying to come up with a plan for getting in, but Gwaine couldn't. Their best bet was just to go up to the guards and try to talk to them … somehow incapacitate them … take them by surprise … maybe even convince them to let him in …

Suddenly, Gwaine heard a great crashing in the undergrowth, like something large was running towards them. He leapt to his feet immediately and placed himself in front of Gwen. He drew his sword and listened intently. The thing was still coming towards them.

When it seemed almost on top of him, Gwaine stepped forwards and cried out in a clear voice. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

To Gwaine's utter astonishment, a young man stepped out in front of him, looking terrified, and holding up his arms in a gesture of surrender. He looked at the sword in Gwaine's hand with barely suppressed fear. He looked oddly familiar to Gwaine.

"Please, don't!" he cried out. "Please. I need to get to Camelot. It's important!"

"Why do you need to get to Camelot?" Gwaine asked him, squinting as he tried to place the boy's face.

"I need to find someone called Gaius!" the youth said. "A – a friend of mine needs his help!"

Gwaine dropped his sword slightly, suddenly remembering where he knew the boy from.

"Friend?" Gwaine asked. "That wouldn't happen to be Merlin would it?"

The boy's eyes widened. "I swear, I'm not one of the Wandrian! I'm trying to help you. Merlin's a good man, he's-"

"I know," said Gwaine, sheathing his sword and glancing at Gwen who was looking confused. "I remember you. You were with Merlin when he broke that man out of the dungeons and when Merlin revealed himself. I used to think you were Emrys."

"Me?" the boy asked, looking amazed, but oddly pleased. "Really?"

"Yes," smiled Gwaine, suddenly realising just how lucky he was. "You're … Gehola, right? The one who uses that tree thingy? Merlin mentioned you to Gaius."

The boy nodded. "I am. And I need your help."

"Is Merlin alright?" Gwen asked, stepping forwards and looking worried. "How is he?"

"Not good," Gehola answered. "The Dark Magic … it's affecting him. Hafela won't let him leave and it's making him worse. I sneaked out. I thought if I could get the tooth back-"

"Arthur has it," said Gwaine, looking at the boy with an increasing sense of dread. "We can't get it back."

Gehola shook his head in horror. "We have to! Merlin- he needs it!"

Gwaine felt sick to his stomach as he looked at the fear in this boy's eyes. Just how bad was Merlin?

"You have to get him to leave," urged Gwen. "Fight your way out if you have to, he can't stay there!"

Gehola shook his head. "He won't go. He won't leave without Morgana."

"If he doesn't leave he'll turn into one of them!" Gwaine said. "He doesn't have a choice!"

"Yes he does" said Gehola. "If he leaves now, without Morgana, he won't know where to go to stop the Portal from opening. He says he has to stay until the end."

"Hang the bloody Portal!" Gwaine said, kicking a rock in frustration. "Just get him out! We can worry about finding the Portal later. He's a sorcerer! Surely he'll have a way to find it on his own? Then he can stop Morgana."

"He still thinks he can turn her away from evil," said Gehola.

"And will he still be able to do that if he's turning to evil himself?" Gwen asked, in a hushed tone.

A moment of silence prevailed.

Gehola sighed. "I can't convince him. He's too stubborn." He looked up at Gwaine and Gwen. "But maybe you can? You know him better."

Gwaine exchanged a glance with Gwen. "We're kind of in the middle of something."

"What?"

"Lancelot," sighed Gwen. "Has Merlin mentioned him?"

"Yes, he was caught wasn't he? But Merlin said he wasn't in any danger."

"He wasn't while Arthur was in charge," said Gwaine, "but Uther has ordered him to be executed tomorrow."

Gehola's mouth fell open. "That can't happen! He's one of Merlin's best friends!"

"Yes," said Gwaine. "And ours as well. We need to break him out of the dungeons."

"Then why aren't you doing it?"

Gwaine frowned; the boy was making him feel like a complete idiot.

"We're trying, but we can't get into the dungeons without killing innocent people. It's too heavily guarded."

Gehola thought for a moment. "I helped Merlin get Hyre out of the dungeons. Perhaps I can help you? Then you can get him to somewhere safe until Samhain."

"Would you help us?" Gwen asked, moving closer to him.

Gehola nodded. "Yes, but …" he looked uncertain here. "I'd have to use magic. Is that …is that alright?"

"Of course," said Gwaine, trying to seem casual about it. "We're Merlin's friends."

Gehola breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. My parents were killed by Uther for having magic … I was just afraid that … that …"

"We don't hate magic," reassured Gwen, smiling at him. "You're safe with us."

Gwaine nodded, but felt his head spinning. So much had changed over the last few weeks it was hard to get his head around. He'd never hated magic, but neither had he openly defended sorcerers or worked with them to break traitors out of prison.

Gehola looked relieved. "Right, where should we go?"

"Over here," said Gwaine, and, sneaking as quietly as he could, he brought him to the edge of the trees where the entrance was. He whispered into the boy's ear. "Can you take care of those guards … without killing them I mean?"

Gehola nodded. "Merlin taught me."

He closed his eyes. He held up his palm and whispered: "_Swefe nu."_

He opened his eyes as he said these words and they burned golden bright, making Gwaine jump a little. That, and seeing Merlin doing it, would take a while to get used to.

He turned his attention to the guards. Gehola's spell hit them, and they crumpled to the ground, almost completely without noise.

Gehola grinned and leapt out of his hiding place and ran over to the grate, Gwaine and Gwen following. Gwaine looked down at the guards.

"What did you do to them?"

"Sleeping spell," he answered, examining the grating. "I can get rid of this if you want?"

"No," said Gwaine, moving forwards and pulling out the key. "It'll make too much noise, and I want to stay as undetected as possible."

Gehola nodded, and stepped back whilst Gwaine opened the gate. They swung open without any noise. Gwaine nodded to his companions and climbed into the darkness beyond.

They moved down the corridor silently, though Gwaine thought he could almost hear the rapid beating of his heart. This corridor was pitch black, and Gwaine was worried he'd missed the turn off.

"Hey, Gehola? Any chance of some light?'

A second later and a small glowing orb of light was hovering in the corridor before them. Gwaine and Gwen blinked and stared at it for a moment, before Gwaine recovered his senses.

"Right, this way."

He led the way, round many twists and turns, following the memorised path to Lancelot's cell. Everything was deadly silent, and instead of being reassuring, it was almost foreboding.

Eventually-

"Lancelot!"

"Gwen? Gwaine? What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like?" Gwaine retorted, moving forwards to examine the lock.

Lancelot was shaking his head. "You shouldn't be here. You can't risk this."

"Shut up," said Gwaine, pulling fruitlessly at the lock. "We've decided that we can't do anything more in Camelot. Our best bet is to get out now to try and be ready to help Merlin when he needs us. Gaius is staying behind."

Lancelot closed his eyes and shook his head. "I should know better than to argue with you." He opened his eyes and frowned. "Who're you?"

"I'm Gehola," he answered, "Merlin's friend. And I think I can help you."

He motioned for Gwaine to stand back. "_Ontynan!_"

The lock slid across and the door creaked open. Lancelot came out hurriedly. He glanced up the corridor.

"Hurry, there's a guard that comes by on his rounds every half an hour and he's due any moment. We need to leave now."

Gwaine didn't waste any time. He turned around and followed Gehola's light back the way they came, their pace now even faster. He hoped desperately that no one had discovered the unconscious guards.

Just as the end of the tunnel became visible, along with the still unconscious guards, Gwaine was ready to utter a sigh of relief when-

"CLANG!"

The warning bell started ringing out loudly and the sounds of shouting guards rang out in the corridor behind them.

"RUN!" Gwaine shouted, throwing caution to the wind, and they all broke out into a run, bursting out of the grates and heading into the forest. They ran, dodging trees and stumbling over roots in the near darkness, but they didn't stop. Gwaine's legs began to burn with exertion and his breath become difficult.

He motioned for them all to stop and they leaned against trees to catch their breath, all their face's red and their clothing bedraggled. Gwaine looked through the trees for any sign of pursuit, but there was none.

"We can't stay here," gasped Lancelot. "They'll be out after us soon."

Gwaine nodded. "Yeah, but If I don't get a breather I'll drop down dead."

Gehola raised his palm. "_Hydan_ … _hydan_ _fram ansien!_"

His eyes burned, and a shimmering mist seemed to pass through the air. Gehola smiled.

"There, we're hidden from view now for the time being. We can rest. And then set out when we've got somewhere to go."

"Where?" asked Gwen, sitting on the ground. "We can't go to the Wandrian, and we don't know where the Portal is."

"What about the cave we hid in from Morgana's men?" Gwaine said, but Lancelot shook his head.

"Arthur knows where that is."

Gwaine cursed. He wished now he had thought of a better plan.

"I know where some Druids are," said Gehola. He looked nervous. "They won't know where the Portal is, the location's only told to some. But if you mention Emrys' name, they'll protect you."

Gwaine exchanged glances with the others. The Druids? True, they were a peaceful people, but until very recently, Lancelot and Gwaine had been members of an organisation dedicated to wiping them out. Would they be welcome?

"Uh, no offence Gehola but …"

"They won't attack you, if that's what you're worried about," said Gehola. "Not if you explain everything to them. They can tell when someone's lying. If your intentions are honest, they'll know."

"How do you know this?" Gwen asked. "I thought Gaius said you had always been too afraid to leave the Wandrian?"

Gehola nodded. "I was. But my aunt used to be one of them, before she turned to Dark Magic, and my parents too before they moved to Camelot. She told me about them and where their camp is- it's one of the few permanent bases the Druids have. She hated them and told me to never go near them because they were weak. And since my aunt was pure evil that must mean that they're good people. I often thought of leaving the Wandrian and going to them, but I was too afraid that the Wandrian would come after me."

Gwaine looked over to Lancelot. "What do you reckon?"

Lancelot shrugged. "It's as good a plan as any. Maybe they'll be able to help us figure out where the Portal is?"

Gwaine nodded. "Good. We'll go there then."

He let himself slide to the ground, still trying to catch his breath. The others seated themselves as well. It seemed strange to him, to be in the middle of being chased, and just sitting here on the ground.

"Now," said Gwen, facing Gehola, "tell us more about Merlin. How bad is he?"

Gehola grimaced. "Very. The Elders are always watching him, so he can't get out to the tree very often, and all the wards he casts around himself are wearing away quickly. Hafela is desperate to convert him to Dark Magic before Samhain. He's … taking it badly."

"How?"

"He looks ill," said Gehola, "like he used to at the beginning. He's always shaking, and he's weak. And his emotions are all over the place. One minute he'll be fine, then he'll be raging mad at something. He tried to kill Morgana yesterday. I'm afraid for him."

Gwaine tried not to let himself panic, but fear for Merlin was ever growing. How much more of this could Merlin take?

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! Constructive criticism only! :)**

**The story has been completed, so updates should be quick.**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Thanks for all your kind reviews and messages**

* * *

Arthur felt like yelling with frustration as the guards related to him what had happened. Why had they done that? _Why?_

He'd been so close! He'd spend the entire night arguing with his father, trying to get Lancelot pardoned, not giving up like he would usually would out of respect for him, determined to do the right thing. In the midst of this heated argument, the warning bells had sounded.

What's more, what had remained of Uther's fragile sanity had snapped. He was back in his chambers infused with Gaius' draughts, once more ranting and raving. Arthur was on his own once more.

And now he was truly alone. Gwaine, Lancelot and … Gwen, the three people he thought he could trust the most. And now they were all gone.

He was alone now in the throne room, and the walls seemed to be closing in on him. He found it hard to breathe. Gwen … Guinevere … how could she do this to him?

He should have seen it coming. She had maintained from the start that Merlin was innocent, and had tried to convince him of that every day. It wasn't really surprising that she had done this. Lancelot had been about to be executed, of course Gwen, kind sweet Gwen, would not have let that happen.

But was it only because of her belief in his innocence, or because she still had some traces of feelings for him?

Arthur paced around the throne room, trying to fight against the overwhelming pressure. Had they all been enchanted by Merlin? Was that were they all were now, gone off to meet him? Were they all now in danger?

He had no doubt now that they all believed they were doing the right thing; Gwen and Gwaine would never have tried to help Lancelot if they thought he was genuinely on the Wandrian's side. They all believed in what they were doing. But did that mean they were right? How could so many of his trusted friends believe the same thing? Was that an indication that he was the one in the wrong here? How could so many of them do this if there wasn't some element of truth to everything they claimed?

He pulled out the tooth from his pocket once more, still not having sent it off to the vaults. Was this really just a symbol of the friendship between Gwaine and Merlin? Had Merlin somehow come into Camelot to heal Gwaine? Was that why they trusted him?

Was Merlin truly on their side? Why would they help him if they didn't? They couldn't all be mistaken.

Fear for Guinevere's safety ran through him like an icy cold fire. Had she willingly plunged herself into danger believing she was helping Camelot? Or had she shown true bravery and went after Merlin for all the right reasons?

She didn't have an evil bone in her body. If she believed in Merlin this badly then surely …

He had to find them, Arthur decided. He had to find them and sort all of this out. And now he wouldn't be subtle about it, or accept thinly veiled excuses. He wanted the truth, all of it. He would go insane otherwise. He had to know.

"You!" he called to the guard standing outside the hall. "Summon the Knights. We ride out immediately to search for them."

* * *

_I'm going insane … I'm going insane …_

Just hold on a little while longer ….

_I_ _can't … I can't take this …_

Only two more days …

Merlin was walking around and around the Wandrian village trying to turn away the tortured thoughts he was having. He was breathing heavily and shaking from head to toe. The screams from the villages and stench of death that emanated from their rotten forms wasn't helping much either.

The Elders had now placed guards along the edge of the forest; they weren't allowing anyone to enter the trees. Supposedly, this was for security, but Merlin knew the real reason was to prevent him getting to the tree. They were trying to drive him mad. And he had to admit, it was working.

He continued going around and around, talking to himself, repeating the names of his friends over and over, picturing their faces in his mind to try and keep himself calm.

Gehola wasn't here, and Merlin had no idea why. He couldn't have left could he? Where could he go? Had the Wandrian seized him to try and send Merlin even further into maddened isolation?

He needed Gehola here, he needed someone to talk to, to try and take his mind off the monstrous shadows that filled his thoughts.

He hunched over, leaning against the walls of the castle after his fiftieth circuit of the village. He rocked back and forth, hugging his body, closing his eyes. Please, please let this be over soon.

"Ha ha! In pain is he? At least he hasn't got the Eyes yet, that would be bad!"

Merlin looked up to find a man from the village staring down at him, his insane eyes rolling in his head. He was naked to the waist, and Merlin vaguely recognised him.

"Nacod?" Merlin asked. He remembered now; this was the insane man who had been spouting prophecy all around the village when Merlin had first arrived. He was the one who had said that Merlin could fall to darkness, that it would result in a death. Merlin felt an almost suffocating sense of unease.

Nacod merely laughed manically. "That's what they call me! And what do they call you? Emrys? Or Merlin? Which are you these days?"

Merlin looked away, unsettled. "I don't know anymore."

"That's a problem," said Nacod. "A man who doesn't know who he is can lose himself easily without even realising it is happening. The darkness is descending."

"Unless you have something useful to say, leave me alone!" yelled Merlin, his anger suddenly and uncontrollably riled. A spell sprang to his lips that would kill this insane old man but he kept it down with difficulty.

Nacod continued laughing. "It's happening! It's happening!"

Merlin held his hands over his head. He couldn't listen to this.

"The time is drawing closer, Emrys!" Nacod said, cackling once more in his insanity. "Samhain approaches! Death draws ever closer!"

_Stop it … stop it … please …_

"The Bewitan will be overrun, and their guardianship shall be over! They cannot stop what will come to pass!"

Merlin looked up suddenly intrigued despite the raging anger and fear he still felt within him. "The Bewitan? Who are they?"

Nacod laughed yet again. "They guard the Portal, Emrys! Have done since the last time it was opened! But they cannot stop the Prophesied One. They won't do anything to stop her. They trust in Emrys to save them. But does Emrys trust in himself?"

"Where are they?" Merlin asked, leaping to his feet. "Where can I find these Bewitan?"

But Nacod just continued laughing and ran off, leaving Merlin with his anger rising once more.

He yelled and set fire to a dead bush that was up against the castle wall. His hands shook with anger. How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't last here until Samhain! He had to find out where this Portal was and get there before the Wandrian!

He moaned and fell back to the ground, his back against the wall.

_Gehola … I need you here. You have to help me. I'm going insane_ …

* * *

"You summoned me?" Morgana said, walking into the Council Chambers, finding the three Elders sitting at the table facing her. She wrinkled her nose at the stench and avoided looking at their rotten faces, instead choosing to stare at some spot behind their heads.

"We understand you've been spending some time with Emrys?" Gamol asked, wheezing.

"What of it?" Morgana asked, though feeling uncomfortable. How much did they know or guess about the conflict in her mind these last few days? "There is little else to do around here, and he is our ally is he not?"

"Depends on how you look at it," muttered Wrecan but the others ignored him.

"Is he succumbing to Dark Magic?" Hafela asked of her, and they all fixed her with eager expressions.

Morgana hesitated for a moment about how to answer. "He's … struggling."

The Elders exchanged gleeful looks. "It is as we hoped," Hafela cackled. "I told you, none can withstand the power of the Noble Art."

Morgana had to resists laughing out loud. Noble Art? She had never seen anything less noble in her life.

"Emrys will be on our side by Samhain," said Hafela, leaning back in his chair, comfortably, his black eyes glinting, "and then we can be absolutely certain he will not betray us."

"I still say we kill him," said Wrecan, glaring. "He's too risky. I don't believe all the crap he comes out with."

"He's too powerful to lose," said Gamol. "He could be a dangerous enemy."

"So kill him!"

"We don't know how powerful his magic is," said Gamol loudly. "He could easily best us."

Wrecan scowled. "You mean his pathetic Old Religion magic could defeat us? Impossible! I could kill him easily!"

"You will not touch him, Wrecan," said Hafela. "Gamol is right. If we want to take Camelot, we need him. Once he has been fully converted, he will be invaluable."

Morgana was beginning to feel dizzy with the stench of decay in the room. She recoiled in revulsion. The way they were talking. So coldly about death and destruction …. she needed to leave.

"If that is all," she said, "there are things I would rather be getting on with."

"A moment," said Hafela, leering. "That was not the sole reason we summoned you to this room."

At his words, all three Elders burst out into more laughter and Morgana felt a sense of dread growing within her.

"What is it?" she asked, and a sudden inexplicable fear gripped her.

Hafela grinned and exposed his rotten mouth. He picked up a small scroll of parchment that was lying on the table in front of him. He unrolled it with a flourish and leered at her after he had read it through. He said nothing for a moment, enjoying keeping her in suspense. Morgana felt her heart beat faster. She knew whatever was written on that scroll wasn't good news.

Hafela adopted a look of condescending sympathy as he opened his mouth again. "We received this scroll this morning. It came from the Isle of the Blessed and the spy we placed there. It is regarding your sister."

Morgana's heart stopped. _No …_

He grinned again. "It appears that yesterday Morgause succumbed to her injuries. She is dead."

* * *

"Are you sure you're alright with us staying here?" Gwen asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Any friends of Emrys, are friends of ours," the woman Druid said again, bowing. But Gwen couldn't help but feel uneasy.

Gehola had brought them here just as the day was breaking, after losing his way a few times having never been here before, and the Druids had poured out of their huts and buildings to greet them; none of them seemed surprised to see them. They'd been welcomed into the main meeting area for the leaders of this Druid clan and hadn't even needed an explanation for why they were here.

"It is written," they had said. "Our part is a small one, but vital if Emrys is to succeed in his mission."

So the Elders had given them all food to eat and place to sleep, and now it was mid-afternoon and Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot and Gehola were all gathered around a small fire, eating. None of them felt comfortable.

"Aren't we putting you in danger?" Lancelot asked the woman.

She smiled. "The Knights of Camelot cannot find us here. Gehola only found us because his family were of our kin. We have waited for him to return to us."

Gehola squirmed uncomfortably. "I don't remember my parents," he said. "And my aunt never really spoke much about here."

"Your aunt was an unfortunate victim," said the woman gravely. "We still mourn her passing and her fall into the Evil Art. But you are welcome here. You could have come here many years ago and been free from the horrors of that land. Why did you not?"

Gehola looked down at his feet. "I was afraid." He admitted. "I never left the valley because I was afraid of what I would find outside it. I'd heard so many stories about the evil that lived here, how people would try and kill me for who I was. I was afraid of the Wandrian, but afraid of Camelot more."

Gwen felt a huge upsurge of pity for the boy. She could see why Merlin had befriended him.

"It's just awful," she said. "To think, you've suffered alone all these years because of Camelot. Uther is supposed to be a king that protects his people, but he was only ever someone to be feared for you. To think you were actually less afraid of the Wandrian than Camelot!"

"It isn't right," said Lancelot, shaking his head. "And I hope that one day Arthur can reverse what was done."

"Do you think he will?" Gehola asked hopefully. "Merlin says he will. That Arthur isn't like his father."

Lancelot glanced to Gwen, and she nodded. "He will," she said firmly. "It might take a while, after all, this is going against everything he's ever been taught in life. But he's a good man, and he recognises cruelty and unfairness when he sees it. He'll be a better king."

They all nodded. Gwen looked down at her plate of food and couldn't help but feel pained as she thought of Arthur. How had he taken the news of their escape? What was he thinking of her now?

"I should be back with Merlin,' said Gehola. "I shouldn't have stayed here at all. Wellan said I should be back before sunrise and I've been much longer than that."

"You won't be in trouble?" Gwen asked in concern.

Gehola shrugged. "Probably not. I can usually outwit them, they aren't too intelligent. I have to go back.'

"You have to bring Merlin back here," said Gwaine. "He can't stay in that place."

"I'll try," said Gehola doubtfully. "But …"

His face crumpled. "I haven't been able to do anything for him," he said, frustrated. "I've tried, but nothing I do seems to make any difference. I don't think I can convince him to come. I don't know what to do."

Gwen immediately went to his side and put her arm around him. He stiffened in surprise and looked up at her with wide eyes. She could tell instantly that never before had he experienced such a kind gesture. Her pity increased.

"Just be there for him, Gehola," she said, smiling. "Merlin can defeat this, we know he can. But he needs to know that his friends are with him. Bring him back if you can, but if not, just be there for him. He needs a friend like you."

Gehola shook his head miserably. "I'm just useless. I'm an enigma, Merlin says so. I can resist the magic, but I don't know why exactly and I can't help Merlin do it."

"Just be there for him," she repeated. "Merlin needs us all now more than ever."

Gehola nodded, and looked more confident. "Alright. I'll go back. For Merlin."

* * *

Merlin was sitting bolt upright on his bed, trying to block out the sounds of distant screaming that seemed to echo from the very castle itself. He had now given up replacing the wards around his room. They wore down every half an hour, and his magic was best preserved trying to fight away this evil.

He closed his eyes. _Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gehola, Mother. Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Lancelot, Gaius, Elyan, Leon, Percival, Gehola, Mother. He couldn't forget them … he wouldn't allow himself to … this is who he was doing it for …_

But with every recitation, their faces and the good times they'd shared seemed to fade away a little bit more, like trying to hold water in his hands, they were slowly draining away.

Now, all he could see in front of him was death … death, shadows, decay … he was fading. He felt the darkness eating away inside of him, corrupting his mind, body and soul. It was endless.

"Emrys."

Merlin opened his eyes, and saw Wrecan standing in the doorway to his chambers, leering smugly at him.

"Finding it difficult to resist are we?" he cackled.

"What do you want, Wrecan?" Merlin replied in a cold voice so unlike his own.

Wrecan glared at him. "You are to come with me. A Camelot Knight has been spotted near our borders. We are to dispatch him."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "He cannot enter here, the clearing is the only entrance and that can only be reached with magic."

"Nevertheless, we are to kill him."

"And why do you need my help?" Merlin asked, glaring back at him with equal measure. "Can't you handle him on your own?"

"I want to speak with you, Emrys," said Wrecan. "Somewhere Hafela will not hear."

Merlin laughed coldly. "Secrets and lies. The Wandrian are certainly full of them. You're up to something that Hafela does not approve of, and that must indeed mean it is something despicable."

"Will you come or not, Emrys?" Wrecan asked, spitting at him. "Are you afraid?"

"I am not," replied Merlin, feeling the rising darkness within him speaking out. "I will come."

He stood up and followed Wrecan from the room. At least he would get outside of this god-awful place.

He felt the darkness growing stronger and stronger within himself as he followed this despicable little man. Something was screaming at him to stop and turn back, that this was a bad idea, but he ignored it. The darkness was telling him to follow, so he did.

Wrecan led him out of the castle and through the village. The ravaged villagers screamed and ran away when they saw him coming. Wrecan laughed at their frightened faces.

They approached the Forest of No Life and the guards who were there drew back when they saw Wrecan approaching. They raised their eyebrows when they saw Merlin, but said nothing. None of them would dare question an Elder.

Wrecan led him through the dead trees for about twenty minutes. He was not heading to the clearing, and Merlin had not expected him to. There was no Knight. This was a meeting solely between Wrecan and Merlin. He couldn't wait.

Finally, Wrecan stopped in a small clearing in amongst the dead trees. He turned to face Merlin, and utter hatred was on his face.

"Foolish boy, following me out here, did you really believe me?"

"No," Merlin answered, "but to be honest, I couldn't wait for the opportunity to finally face you. I know you've been dying to do this since we first met, but what I'd like to know is why."

"Isn't it obvious?" sneered Wrecan. "You are Camelot's slave! You have no intention of betraying that city! I am no fool. That most recent attack, the swords of the Knights sliced right through our shields, almost as if they'd been _enchanted._ There have been no reports of mass rioting in Camelot through hunger, because they _aren't_ starving. You have ordered that no one be killed because you are really on their side, as you have been the entire time!"

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "You aren't entirely stupid then? But why bring me out here now? Hafela is trying to convert me to Dark Magic. He thinks he will succeed before Samhain, why don't you?"

"Oh, I do not doubt it," said Wrecan, his black eyes still glaring at him. "You're already within our grasp Emrys, a few more hours and you will be one of us."

"Then why?" asked Merlin, feeling the darkness grow stronger within him as the last vestiges of reason faded from his mind. "Why now?"

"Because I don't want you on our side, Emrys," hissed Wrecan, looking livid. "You are not worth it! And I will not ally myself with a _Dragonlord!"_

Merlin smiled. "Ah, now we get to the real reason you have hated me from the beginning. You hate Dragonlords, and one particular Dragonlord especially."

Wrecan's eyes flashed. "You know then?"

"I know only that you had some altercation with the Dragonlord Balinor," said Merlin carefully, trying to suppress his inexplicable rage. "And that's why you bear that scar on your face."

"You are a Dragonlord," said Wrecan. "I could sense it the whole while. You stink of the Old Religion. You must have heard of _Balinor._"

"I have," smiled Merlin, feeling the darkness inside of him seize absolute control of his faculties. "He was my father."

Wrecan let out a yell of anger. "Now it makes me even gladder than I can kill you now!"

"What happened between you?" Merlin asked, determined to get the details. "Why do you hate him?"

Wrecan looked insane with anger. "He did this to me!" he yelled, gesturing to the scar. "He had lived in my village. He tried to turn me from the path of the Noble Art! And I fought him, I fought him but he bested me. That despicable excuse for a man left me for dead more than twenty years ago! Still, I do owe him. That encounter taught me to pursue this course with even more vigour, but I never forgot! I was determined to have my revenge, and if I cannot have it on him, then his son must do!"

Wrecan raised his palm and his black eyes seemed to glimmer in the darkness.

"You and me, Emrys," he hissed. "Forget Hafela's precious plan."

Merlin glared at Wrecan, and suddenly, it seemed as though what was left of his mind seemed to be enveloped in shadow. He wanted to kill Wrecan, right here and right now. He felt nothing but hatred, anger and revulsion. He raised his own palm, and laughed.

"Just _try _and kill me!"

Wrecan yelled. "_Acwellan!"_

His eyes burned green and a great torrent of energy came soaring towards him. "_Hilderand!"_ Merlin countered, and the spell bounced off harmlessly. Wrecan looked surprised.

"I'm more powerful than you realise, Wrecan," Merlin heard himself say. "_Bærnan sar!"_

He sent a blast of power towards Wrecan rejoicing in the feeling of power that was emanating from him and relishing the darkness that was thriving inside of him. This was power. This was good.

Wrecan easily repelled the spell that came his way and with that spell, a whole section of his face turned black and rotten and slipped off, exposing a part of the skull. Merlin didn't even flinch.

"_Wyrdan!"_

"_Egesa!_"

The spells collided in mid-air and green and red jets of light spiralled off and hit the neighbouring trees with cracks of thunder and rebounding sparks. Merlin sustained the flow of energy into his spell. Wrecan did the same.

Merlin poured more and more of himself into the spell. He kept it going, feeling the darkness rushing through his body, delighting in the way that it drove him onwards, pushing him to give more and more power to the spell. Wrecan's eyes grew wide with fear as Merlin's spell gained dominance. Merlin laughed. He was afraid. He was weak. Merlin was powerful.

Suddenly, Wrecan's spell failed, and with a great burst of green light, faded out of existence. He let out an agonised yell as Merlin's spell hit him full on. He went flying back, his body limp in the air. He fell to the ground with a thud. He didn't move.

Merlin watched with cold eyes. He was dead.

He felt nothing. Only a distinct pleasure that was slowly growing within him as he looked down at Wrecan's ruined and lifeless form. The dark monster inside of him roared with satisfaction.

He took a step closer. The force of the spell had blasted a hole right through Wrecan's chest, exposing yet more ruined and rotten flesh that stank with decay. Merlin smiled.

Then, unbidden, a tiny little voice sprung up in the back of his mind. He frowned; what was this?

It came to him as a distant memory, a small echoing of the person that he used to be. The words of a prophecy he had read in Camelot, oh so long ago:

_'The darkness shall consume the world and Emrys shall be feared and worshiped by all who survive the Purge of the Light._

_A death shall mark his descent, a descent into the darkest form of existence. Only another death, can bring him back to the light, a sacrifice of one about whom he cares. If he succeeds he will lead the lands into a new era of light and golden days, if he fails, the world will descend into a fiery hell.'_

Then, the darkness in Merlin's mind seemed to evaporate instantly. He cried out in sheer horror and fell to his knees, appalled at what he had done. He shook and breathed heavily, wrapping his arms around his body. _What had he done?_

He looked up at Wrecan's body in utter revulsion. He had killed him. He had allowed to darkness to take control.

Was there any hope for him now?

Merlin felt his magic filling his veins with fire as he fought harder against the darkness than he ever had before. A death marked his decent into darkness, and only another death could pull him out of it.

But who?

Merlin stood up hurriedly, and shook himself off, looking away from Wrecan's body. He wouldn't let it happen. He would fight this. He could feel his resistance to it growing with every passing second. He had failed the first test. He couldn't fail another.

He stumbled off through the woods, still feeling the horror of what had just occurred. He had to leave this realm. He had to leave before he succumbed entirely. He would be no use to Camelot in this state. If he stayed much longer, he would turn into their enemy.

He shuddered, and drew desperately on the magic that was rushing throughout his body. He was stronger than this! He had to fight it!

He burst out of the trees and took off towards the castle, ignoring the cries of the people in the village. He had to get out of this place, but he had something to do first. He saw her leaving the castle gates before he even got there.

"Morgana!" he called, and she turned and looked at him. Her face was expressionless.

"We need to leave, now!" he said, looking into her face with an urgency that he had never done before. "Wrecan is dead. He attacked me and I was almost turned to Dark Magic. I need to leave if we're going to stop the Portal from being opened. Come with me! I know that this isn't what you want."

But Morgana just stared at him, no expression on her face.

"Leave?"

"Yes," he moaned. "Please, now! We need to go! Don't lie Morgana, I know you've been faltering. You need to come with me."

"I don't need to help you," Morgana said, her tone flat. "My sister is dead."

Merlin took a step back in shock. "What?"

"We got notice this afternoon," she said, still in that expressionless tone. "She died. From the injuries _you_ inflicted on her."

Merlin shook his head in horror. _No! Not now … not after so much effort in changing her … no … it couldn't all have been for nothing!_

"Morgana," he said, trying to keep calm. "Please, you have to come. She wouldn't want this. She wouldn't want you to do this."

Morgana's eyes flashed with anger. "And how do you know?" she screeched. "You didn't know her! You _killed_ her!"

"Morgana, please!" he begged. "Remember everything that we've been through this last while. What use is there in destroying the entire world?"

"Because I no longer have any reason for living in it," said Morgana, her eyes a pool of agony. "She was the only one who cared."

"I care!" Merlin said. "I care about you Morgana, why do you think I tried so hard to save you? I didn't have to! I could just have killed you! But I care!"

"Morgause is dead," Morgana repeated, her anger growing. "And now I have nothing left to live for, I might as well destroy this world along with me. It was this world that drove her and me into hiding. It should pay for what it did! I don't care about myself anymore!"

"Morgana!"

"NO!" she screamed, looking insane, and her eyes flashed golden. She unleashed a torrent of pure magic from within her, completely uncontrollable and it sent Merlin flying back through the air. He hit the ground and coughed. He rolled over immediately and leapt up again. She looked at him with pure hatred in her eyes.

"You killed her," she said, and her voice broke and tears spilled from her eyes. "You killed her …"

Merlin didn't know what to say to this. He couldn't deny it.

"Please, Morgana," he asked. "See past your grief for now. Think about the bigger picture. Don't you want to make sure no one suffers the way the two of you did again?"

Morgana glared at him.

"Merlin!"

Caught off guard, Merlin turned and saw Gehola sprinting towards him. He looked frenzied.

"Merlin! You need to come with me!"

Morgana glared at him. "You are his ally. You will die too!"

And she unleashed another uncontrolled burst of energy towards the two of them. Gehola yelled, and Merlin only just managed to raise a shield in time.

"Please, Morgana!" Merlin begged one last time. "You don't have to do this!"

She replied with another scream and instinctive and uncontrolled spell.

"Come on!" Gehola yelled, and dragged Merlin away. Merlin fought him. He couldn't leave her! Not now!

But Morgana continued throwing spells at him and Gehola pulled at Merlin, and together they broke out into a run away from the castle, away from their last hope of saving Morgana.

"Gehola! We have to help her!" Merlin shouted as they ran. But Gehola shook his head.

"You need to leave Merlin!"

The villagers cried out and tried to grab at them as they ran through the village, throwing spell after spell at them. It was all Merlin could do to repel all this Dark Magic, let alone try and get back to Morgana. Still, Gehola led the way, pulling at Merlin's sleeve. Merlin followed him dumbly, still submerged in his nightmare.

They reached the forest again, and the guards tried to attack them, but Merlin's magic was too powerful for them. They raced past them and up the hill towards the clearing, hearing the Wandrian coming after them, hurling powerful spells at their backs.

Merlin ran, despite the overwhelming urge to return for Morgana. He couldn't save her now. He had to get out before he fully succumbed. He had to trust in her, trust that she'd come to her senses.

They emerged out into the clearing where some other sorcerer tried to attack them. Merlin easily overpowered him as Gehola uttered a Transportation Spell to get both of them out of here, Merlin not even paying attention to the location. He was in a dream, some crazy dream that just couldn't be real.

He felt himself be carried off by the spell and he didn't care where he went. All hope he'd had in defeating the Wandrian lay behind him. They were leaving without Morgana. What chance did they have now?

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review!**

**Next update will be very soon.**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

Gwaine, Gwen and Lancelot were sitting before the fire in the Druid settlement. None of them were talking. They were far too worried. Gehola had been gone for a while now, and had not returned or sent word. They feared for his safety, and Merlin's too.

Gwaine had come to like the young man in the short time he'd known him. He was a victim, a victim of Uther's ruthlessness and someone who truly deserved happiness in his life. He'd suffered a lot. Gwaine admired the boy for managing to stay so pure and kind; considering he had been practically raised by the Wandrian, it was a complete miracle he hadn't turned out like them.

Darkness had fallen and it was rapidly approaching midnight. Gwaine shivered. This time tomorrow night, the Wandrian would try to open the Portal. If they couldn't get Merlin and Morgana back … what would happen then? And Arthur? The other Knights?

The Druids at the camp passed by as silent shadows in the night. None of them spoke to the newcomers, yet they weren't unfriendly exactly. It was almost as though they were ethereal beings, passing by. Every time Gwaine caught their eye they smiled mysteriously, bowed their heads and moved on. It was enough to drive him crazy.

He hated sitting here doing nothing.

Almost as if the world had heard his silent longing for some action, he heard cries coming from one of the outer regions of the settlement. Immediately, he sprang to his feet and drew his sword, along with Lancelot and Gwen, who followed, though weaponless. He ran to the sound of the shouts, expecting an attack at the very least, but saw only two pale figures standing there in the moonlight, surrounded by Druids who were looking on with awed expressions.

One turned, and Gwaine saw that it was Gehola. He looked afraid.

"Please! Help me!"

Gwaine looked at the other man, who Gehola was supporting. The figure raised his head, and Gwaine saw that it was Merlin.

He immediately dropped his sword. "Merlin!"

He ran forwards and took some of Merlin's weight off of Gehola. Merlin was shaking and muttering to himself, a cold sweat drenching his haggard face. Together he and Gehola helped Merlin back to the fire, almost dragging him as Merlin seemed too weak to stand on his own. The Druids looked on, but did not interfere.

They deposited Merlin down in front of the fire, and Gwen came running forwards with a thick blanket and threw it around his shoulders. Merlin sat there, hunched over, his eyes closed, rocking back and forth while tremors ran through his body.

Gwaine couldn't conceal his shock. Merlin looked awful. He looked painfully thin, even more so than he'd done before. He was pale and thick shadows were under his eyes. He seemed to be completely unaware of anything that was going on.

Gwaine looked up and exchanged grim looks with Lancelot, and saw that he too was shocked. Dark Magic had done this to him? Someone as supposedly powerful as Merlin?

Gwen was crouched in front of him, her hands placed over his. He wasn't looking at her, but she sat there anyway, murmuring soothing phrases to him as he continued shaking. She pulled the blankets closer around his shoulders and ran her hands up his arms.

"It's alright," she said, "You're with friends now. You're safe."

Merlin still didn't respond, though his breathing seemed to become easier. Gwaine motioned to Lancelot and Gehola, and they stepped away from Merlin and came closer to him.

"What happened?" Gwaine asked Gehola. "I thought you said you wouldn't be able to convince him to come without Morgana?"

Gehola wrenched his eyes away from Merlin. "He had to. Morgana was attacking him, and so were the Wandrian."

"Why?" Lancelot asked, his eyes urgent. "Did they realise the truth?"

"I don't know," said Gehola, wringing his hands together. "I got back, and Merlin was there with Morgana, and he was begging her to leave. He kept saying that they had to leave now; something must have happened. But she refused. Her sister had died and she blamed Merlin, she went against him so suddenly after weeks of Merlin trying to get through to her. Then she started attacking him, and, well, her magic isn't very good. It's really unpredictable and dangerous, and then everyone else started joining in. It was all I could do to get us out of there."

"And why is he like this now?" Gwaine asked, casting another worried look at Merlin.

"As soon as we arrived here," Gehola began, "he just sort of collapsed and starting moaning about how it was his fault and … and … that someone was dead and he didn't do enough to stop the evil, and now someone else was going to have to die. This is as bad as I've seen him in weeks."

Gwaine nodded, and left the other two and moved back over to Merlin. He seemed calmer now. He'd opened his eyes and was staring at Gwen as though not quite believing she was here.

"Gwen?" he asked, his voice weak. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here too you know," Gwaine said, and Merlin's head whipped round to see Lancelot and Gwaine looking down at him. "How are you feeling?"

Merlin grimaced, and Gwaine realised that had been a pretty stupid thing to say. "Awful," he said, shuddering. "But better now I'm out of that place."

"I can imagine," said Lancelot dryly, sitting himself down in front of the fire. "But you're alright now, Merlin. You're among friends now."

Merlin nodded, and pulled the blankets closer. "How did you get here? I thought you were in jail? And where is here anyway?"

"These are the Druids that my parents used to live with," Gehola said, taking a seat beside Lancelot. "I brought them here."

"Uther tried to have me executed," Lancelot explained, wincing.

Merlin's eyes widened. "What? Arthur allowed that?"

"I don't think he was happy about it," Lancelot replied. "I'm sure Arthur was doing all he could to stop it."

"But how did you escape?"

"That was us," said Gwaine, also taking a seat. "Gwen and I broke in with some help from Gehola here."

Merlin looked at Gwaine, and his expression looked haunted. He blinked a couple of times. "So you believe me now?" he asked quietly, staring at Gwaine. "After you turned Lancelot in I thought …"

"I was an idiot for doing that," said Gwaine. "I- I was confused and angry at both of you for the secrets you were keeping. But I know you, Merlin, I knew deep down that you couldn't have been this evil guy. And after you saved me in the battle, healed me and gave up your talisman … well, I realised what a complete fool I'd been. Can you forgive me?"

Merlin smiled, and some of the lines on his face seemed to disappear. "I suppose," he said. "And by the way, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Gwaine asked. "I should be apologising to you!"

But Merlin shook his head. "No. I shouldn't have lied to you, to any of you," he said, looking at Lancelot and Gwen as well. "I shouldn't have lied to you. You're my friends. You deserved better."

"Why did you do it, Merlin?' Gwen asked, taking his hand again. "Why not just tell us?"

Merlin avoided their eyes. "I was afraid," he all but whispered. "All my life I've spent being afraid of who and what I am. I've always kept my guard up, never really let anyone in because I was scared of what they might find. I was scared that you'd all hate me."

"We'd never hate you Merlin," said Gwen, smiling at him. "And we don't now. We understand, Merlin. You should never have had to live with that burden."

"Yeah," said Gwaine, feeling the guilt. "Don't apologise, Merlin. It must've been tough. And I'm just glad you're here now and you don't have to lie anymore."

Merlin smiled again, and started fiddling with the blankets. He looked up at Gehola.

"You helped get Lancelot out? That's where you went to?"

Gehola nodded. "Yeah. Sorry for leaving you like that. I shouldn't have."

"But why did you go to Camelot?"

Gehola bit his lip. "I- I went to get you that tooth back. I knew you needed it, and I wanted to help."

Merlin looked speechless for a moment. "Thanks," he said finally, smiling at Gehola. "I know it must've been hard for you to go back there."

Gehola shrugged. "It didn't work though. I didn't get the tooth."

"But you got Lancelot," said Merlin, "and that's far more important."

Lancelot laughed. "Glad you appreciate me, Merlin."

"Don't go getting an ego, I'm just trying to boost his self-esteem," teased Merlin, and Lancelot laughed again. Gwaine did too, feeling overjoyed to see the old Merlin back even for the briefest of moments. Sorcerer or not, _Emrys_ or not, he was still Merlin, his friend.

"What did happen to the tooth," Merlin asked. "I could've used it …"

"I'm sorry," said Gwaine, feeling the guilt once more. "Arthur has it."

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, surprised. "But how?"

"This idiot left it lying," said Gwen, glaring at Gwaine, "Arthur found it and confiscated it."

Gwaine shrugged apologetically. "I'm not perfect. But it looks like you got by alright without it, Merlin!"

At this, Merlin's face fell and he looked away, his expression pained. "I didn't," he all but whispered. "I … I …"

And suddenly his eyes seemed to fill with tears and he shook his head and began shaking again. "I let it take control," he said, his voice alone conveying a sense of horror. "I fell to the darkness … I couldn't resist … and now I might have ruined everything …"

Gwaine went cold all over as he looked at the look of absolute despair on Merlin's face. "Doesn't seem so bad to me," he said, leaning in to try and comfort him. "I don't see your skin rotting away just yet!"

Merlin didn't look reassured. "I couldn't fight it … it was too strong …"

He bowed his head and screwed up his face. "I let it control me …"

"What happened, Merlin?" Gwen asked, seizing hold of his hands. "Tell us."

"I killed him …" whispered Merlin, still not looking at her. "I killed him because I let the darkness take hold …"

"Who did you kill?" Lancelot asked gently. "You can tell us, Merlin."

"Wrecan," said Merlin, barely audibly.

"Wrecan's dead?" Gehola asked, the glee in his voice evident for all to hear. "Truly?"

"But isn't that a good thing?" Gwaine asked, frowning. "Wrecan was one of the Wandrian Elders wasn't he? Surely it's good that he's dead?"

Merlin shook his head looking distressed. "No … it's not …"

Gwaine looked at Lancelot to see a mirror image of his own confusion. "Explain, Merlin. Why is the fact that you killed one of the most evil men in existence on the eve of his plot to take over Camelot _not_ a good thing?"

"You don't understand!" Merlin yelled, and he leapt to his feet and began pacing in front of the fire, throwing off his blankets. His eyes were wide and his breathing ragged. He looked quite deranged. "I killed him! I blasted him to pieces! And I _enjoyed _it!"

He raised a hand to his head as though in pain. He didn't look directly at any of them. "I succumbed to all the dark and awful things that were trying to tempt me," he said, pained. "I listened to them, I _wanted_ to kill Wrecan. I wanted to cause him as much pain as possible. I- I wasn't myself. It was like some awful monster had taken control of me and I didn't know who I was any more. It wasn't until I was looking down at his dead body that I realised what I'd done. That I'd failed …"

"But you fought it!" Gwen said, also leaping to her feet. "You didn't turn to Dark Magic, Merlin! You came back to us!"

"It's too late," Merlin said, shaking his head, and taking several steps backwards until he was leaning against a tree for support. He looked close to tears. "The damage has been done. I let the darkness control me. And now I've set things into motion that I can't control. It's like what the prophecy said …"

"What prophecy?" Lancelot asked, standing up slowly and watching Merlin with worried eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"They said," began Merlin, taking a great shuddering breath, "that Emrys would be tempted. That he could fall to the might of Dark Magic, and that a death would mark his descent. That's happened. I let the dark control me and kill Wrecan, and now …"

"But the prophecy also says that you'll save us!" said Gehola, wide-eyed. "That Emrys is the only one who can. Surely it tells you how you can fight it?"

Merlin nodded. "It did … it said, it said that once I set off down this path … only another death, the death of someone I care about can save me …" he clenched his eyes tightly shut. "I let the darkness control me. And though Wrecan is dead … it also means that if I'm to help you all … someone else needs to die."

There was silence for a moment. Gwaine was at a loss. He saw Merlin standing there and was shocked to see how lost and _afraid_ he looked. He could never have imagined something could make Merlin as frightened as that- he was one of the bravest men he knew.

Gwen tried to comfort him once more, stepping forwards and placing a hand on his arm. He flinched at her touch and looked down. She stayed there determined.

"Prophecy isn't everything, Merlin," she said, her voice thick, "You don't have to be ruled by destiny. You didn't _use_ Dark Magic did you? Everything isn't lost."

"It is," said Merlin miserably. "Morgana is still with them. She got the news that Morgause was dead … and suddenly everything that had happened between us was gone. Like none of it had meant anything, all the progress we'd made just disappeared. She blames me, and I couldn't get through to her again."

"Maybe she'll remember," said Gwen, "She might make the right choice yet."

"And what if she doesn't?" said Merlin, looking up. "I was determined to save her. I risked everything so that I could stay there and try and bring her back. But all of that was for nothing. And now I'm probably going to have to kill her to stop her, but I can't even do that because I have no idea where the Portal is."

He slumped to the ground and stared blankly into space. "I've ruined everything …"

No one said anything. Gwaine, Lancelot, Gwen and Gehola looked at each other. As though by silent agreement, they all stepped forward as one and surrounded Merlin.

"No, you haven't," said Lancelot. "You're here. You're still alive. And so are we."

"We're all here with you, Merlin," said Gwaine. "And we're going to help you in any way we can."

"We can still stop this, Merlin," said Gwen, smiling. "All of us, together."

"But we're not all together, are we?" asked Merlin. "Arthur still hates my guts."

"I don't think he does," said Gwen. "But you said to me, Merlin, a while back, that it doesn't matter what Arthur thinks. You, _we_, have to do this regardless. Then we can work on rebuilding the bridges. All we have to do first is make sure we'll have a world left for building bridges. We're doing this to protect the people of Camelot, whether they hate us or not. Just like how you protected Arthur all those years without looking for credit, even though you'd be executed if you were found out. We're not doing this for glory, but for a chance for all of us to live in peace. For that world you talked about where people like you wouldn't have to live in fear any more. Isn't that worth it?"

Merlin looked up at her words, and a small smile passed across his face. "It is."

He sighed, and stood up, taking a deep breath to compose himself. "We have to try anyway don't we?"

"Yeah," said Gwaine, "two Knights, one without a sword, a former handmaiden, a boy and a sorcerer against the full might of the Wandrian. They don't stand a chance!"

"_Two_ sorcerers!" Gehola said, stepping forwards. He looked nervous but determined all the same. "You helped me, Merlin. You helped me realise that there can be a world where I don't have to be afraid any more. And I want to help you do that. I've never known anything but life with the Wandrian, but I think you can change that. I trust in you, Merlin." He trailed off here, looking embarrassed at his outburst, but Merlin was smiling.

"Thanks, Gehola," Merlin said.

"Well!" said Gwaine, clapping his hands together. "Now all that's over with, we need a plan!"

"I thought you didn't like plans?" Gwen asked, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't say it was _my _plan," Gwaine said. "One of the rest of you can come up with something!"

"What?" asked Lancelot. "We don't know where the Portal is."

Merlin sighed. "And if we don't find it by tomorrow night …"

Gwaine paced up and down, thinking hard. "There has to be a way to find it," he said. "Something like that can't be hidden entirely. It's in Camelot's borders right? Where is there in the kingdom that something like that could be hidden?" He stopped his pacing and looked curiously at Merlin. "Can't you do something?"

"What?" Merlin asked, frowning.

"I don't know," said Gwaine, "some sort of magic-y thing that'll tell us where it is."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," said Merlin sarcastically. "The Portal can't be found with magic. It's concealed by magic _from_ magic. It was hidden so that no one could stumble on it accidentally. Only those who know exactly where it is can find it."

"That's useless," sighed Lancelot. "How did the Wandrian find it?"

"They like capturing Druids," said Gehola, looking on. "It was a kind of … _sport._ They haven't really done it in years, but one of them might have told them where to find it."

"The Druids would rather die than reveal its whereabouts," Merlin said, frowning. "I doubt any of them would reveal it."

"You never saw what the Elders did to those Druids," Gehola said in a small voice. "Normal torture wouldn't work on them, but torture through Dark Magic … well, you know yourself what it can do to the person even with the most noble of intentions."

Merlin looked grave. "Of course."

Merlin began pacing up and down like Gwaine had. He still looked pale and weak, but there seemed to be a fire lit anew in his eyes.

"It's just typical isn't it?" he asked, dryly. "People often keep things so secret that it can actually cause more harm than good." He left this hanging, and Gwaine knew he was referring to more than just this situation with the Druids. "I just wish they would let us help them!"

He tuned in frustration to one of the Druids who were standing watching, one that Gwaine recognised to be their leader.

"I don't suppose you know where to find it?"

The Druid smiled. "Yes, I do."

Merlin and all the others froze in shock. "You _do?_" he gasped.

The Druid nodded. "Yes."

Merlin stared at him, but Gwaine was indignant.

"We asked you as soon as we arrived if you knew where the Portal was!" he said, barely containing his anger. "You said you didn't know!"

"I did not," said the Druid calmly. "I told you that I could not tell you, not that I did not know. And that was the truth. I am not authorised to dispense that information. To Emrys, and Emrys alone would I tell that greatest of secrets. You were his allies, but you were not he."

Gwaine still gaped at them, unable to believe them. "Are you kidding me?" he asked, still incredulous. "You've been sat there listening to us the entire time panicking over how to find the Portal and you knew all along? When were you thinking about telling us?"

"We were not," said the Druid, looking to his fellow Druids. "We would not reveal the information. Not unless Emrys himself asked it of us."

"And what if I hadn't," asked Merlin, still staring. "Would you have watched as we went off on a wild-goose chase?"

The Druid smiled. "We had complete faith in you, Emrys."

Gwaine cursed and turned away from him. Bloody sorcerers.

"How do you know where it is?" Gehola asked. "I thought there was only an elite group of Druids who were allowed to know?"

"We are that group," the Druid said, bowing.

Merlin turned to Gehola. "What are the odds that the Druids your family came from were the ones that were guarding the Portal?"

"It is no coincidence," the Druid said. "This was foretold many centuries ago. You were _meant_ to find Gehola, and he was _meant_ to bring you here. Prophecy is being fulfilled."

The Druid came closer. "We are the Bewitan," he said. "The Guardians. We have guarded the Portal for centuries. We alone are able to resist the Dark magic that flows through the tear in the Veil."

"Veil?" Gwaine asked, confused. "I thought there was a Portal?"

"The Portal is placed over the Veil between this world and the next," said the Druid. "The Veil was torn many years ago, and Dark Magic seeps into the world from that point. The Portal was created to stop it from opening any further. Unfortunately, this can be abused."

"How are you able to resist the Dark Magic?" Merlin asked quietly. "How can you resist it and I can't? I thought I was supposed to be 'pure magic' or something?"

"That which is pure can always be corrupted, but it always proves its purity in the end, for nothing which is good can wholly be turned to evil," the Druid said.

Merlin scowled. "Riddles? You're worse than that bloody dragon!"

Gwaine barely had time to wonder what Merlin meant by this, when the Druid started speaking again:

"Our ancestors were the original users of magic," the Druid explained. "And as such, we were gifted with the ability to draw on a different form of magic than others. We are anomalies, which is why you have never heard of this ability before, it is one of the Old Religion's greatest secrets. There are places in the world where the Old Religion exists in its purest form. We can access that magic, and bring it into our bodies, and unlike with others, the power of the magic does not get diluted by being contained in mortal form. The magic within us is entirely pure. This is how we get our magic in the first place, by absorbing it; none of us were born with our powers like you were Emrys. It takes many years of training to take the full power of the Old Religion within us, and it is dangerous, as the magic can sometimes prove too powerful for us. But that is our purpose, given to us from the very beginning of time. We were given this ability to ensure we would be uncorrupted against Dark Magic and serve to protect the world. Magic comes more easily to us than most, and we are more powerful than most. Though of course," he said bowing to Merlin, "not more so than the great Emrys himself."

Gwaine had a hard time getting his head around this, but when he looked to Merlin, he saw that he looked thoughtful. He turned his head to look at Gehola, and they exchanged meaningful glances. Merlin turned back to the Druid.

"The tree," said Merlin, slowly, "the one in the Forest of No Life. That's one of those places you get your magic from isn't it? That's why Gehola can access that magic and I can't, because he's one of you. That's how he doesn't get corrupted, and why he never had magic before going to that tree?"

The Druid nodded. Gehola looked overjoyed and grinned.

"That's the reason?" he asked, his voice betraying his excitement. "That's why I'm so different?"

"Yes," smiled the Druid. "I only regret that you were alone through all of this. Your parents and your aunt left us to go to Camelot and practice their craft there, and when your mother and father were executed, your aunt, who by that point had fallen into shadow, took you to be with the Wandrian, and never told you of this power or how to use it. You should have had us to guide you. I am sorry you struggled with it on your own."

But Gehola didn't seem to care. He laughed. "Thank you," he said, "Thank you for finally explaining it to me. I thought I was just …"

"You are one of us," the Druid said again.

Merlin smiled at Gehola. "You see, you were never alone. I knew there had to be a reason."

"Right," said Gwaine, stepping forward. "This is touching and all, but where is the Portal?"

The Druid ignored Gwaine and looked directly at Merlin.

"It is on the other side of this kingdom," the Druid said. "We have a camp there where we send our stewards to live as they guard it. Nothing lives for many miles around. Follow the Samod river through the gorge and over the plains. When the water begins to turn black and eventually dry up, you are close."

"Hang on," said Gwaine, frowning. "One of Camelot's patrols follows that river every day. It doesn't run black anywhere!"

"We placed enchantments around the area," answered the Druid. "Unless you know the Portal lies ahead, you will not see it. It's a simple spell that plays tricks on the mind. It keeps away the feeble-minded."

"Feeble-minded?"

"Thank you," said Merlin, speaking over Gwaine's protests. "Thank you for your help."

"We are honour bound to help you, Emrys," said the Druid, bowing yet again. "But I am afraid that this is all we can do. It is not our destiny to help you any further. You must do the next part alone."

"Of course," grumbled Gwaine. "When things get difficult, just blame destiny. I knew we'd have to do it on our own."

But the Druid ignored him, and bowed to Merlin, turned and left with the other Druids, back to their homes, leaving the rest of them sitting by the fire.

"What use are they?" Gwaine said. "Back out just when we need them!"

But Merlin didn't say anything to this. He just looked into the fire, thinking.

"What are we going to do then?" Lancelot asked of Merlin. "Do we head out right now?"

Merlin was silent for a moment. "No," he said finally. "The Wandrian won't get to the Portal until tonight, there's no point in us hanging around there all day. We want to minimize our exposure to the Dark Magic. The Portal can't be opened until midnight anyway."

"Then what do we do in the meantime?" Gwen asked. "Just wait here?"

"No," said Merlin, the ghost of a smile passing over his face. "We have to build up our army."

"Our what?"

"We have to go back to Camelot," said Merlin, clenching his hands together. "We have to get Arthur and the others. You remember the attack Gwaine? With some enchanted swords and some shield spells, you might actually just stand a chance against the Wandrian. All of them will be there, and I can't waste time dealing with them all to get to Morgana and Hafela. You'll have to take care of the others."

"That's a good plan, Merlin," said Gwaine. "But aren't you forgetting about the part where Arthur is _against_ us?"

Merlin winced. "We'll have to convince him."

"How?"

"He might hate me," said Merlin, his voice wavering slightly, "but he hates the Wandrian more. He might be persuaded to join forces, even if it's only temporary."

"And what's to say that he won't try and kill you," asked Lancelot. "What will convince him that you've turned against the Wandrian?"

"We have to try," said Merlin. "I can't believe that Arthur is fully against me. There must be some part of him that believes in me."

"And how do you suggest we find that part of him within the next twenty four hours," asked Gwaine. "We've been trying for ages."

"I might be able to do it in person," said Merlin. "I can get through to him."

"You can't go back to Camelot!" Lancelot said. "You're the most wanted man in the kingdom! You can't just stroll in through the gates."

"I don't have to go in through the gates," said Merlin, smiling almost mischievously. "I have magic."

Gwaine looked at Gwen and Lancelot. "Is he insane? Did the Dark magic get to him?"

"I think he's right" said Gwen. "We need Arthur's help. And if anyone can convince him, it's Merlin."

"Yeah, if he doesn't try and chop his head off the moment he sees him," said Gwaine. "And what about Uther? He'll kill you as soon as he looks at you."

"I'd like to see him try," said Merlin. "I can handle Uther."

Gwaine looked at everyone else. "Can't anyone else see how crazy this is?"

"I thought you like spontaneity?" Lancelot asked him, winking.

Gwaine faltered for a moment, looking between Merlin and the others. "Well …"

He sighed. "All right, when do we set out?"

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! Next update will be soon :)**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews!**

* * *

Arthur sat in his father's throne in the council chambers with what remained of his Knights, fighting the weariness that threatened to overcome him. He'd been out all day yesterday and most of the night searching for Lancelot and the others, but to no avail. They'd managed to follow their tracks for some way into the forest, but then, they'd seemed to disappear. From what Arthur could tell, they'd just been spirited away. He'd been confused for a moment, before he realised; they must have met Merlin.

The thought of Lancelot, Gwaine and most especially Gwen with Merlin, a sorcerer, was almost too much to bear. Were they with the Wandrian even now? Was Gwen in danger?

But the more he thought about it, the less likely it seemed that they were. Arthur just couldn't fathom Guinevere sacrificing everything for something she wasn't sure of. She had a kind heart, yes, but she was no fool. If she believed Merlin to be innocent …

He tried not to panic as he thought about the fact that tonight was Samhain's Eve. Tonight at midnight, the Portal would be opened, and there seemed to be nothing Arthur could do to stop it.

"Any news?" he asked of his Knights, though already knowing the answer.

"No, Sire," Elyan said, his own face as haunted as Arthur's; he was worried sick for his sister. "We haven't been able to find the Portal."

Arthur nodded, and looked around at all of his Knights, Elyan, Leon and Percival, the only ones remaining of the inner circle. Did they have faith in him? Or were they like Gwaine, Lancelot and Guinevere, doubtful, and willing to go against him?

They were despairing, the Knights and members of Court that were gathered here earl y in the morning, Arthur could tell. He had to do something.

"Gaius?"

"Yes, my Lord?" he answered, stepping forward. Arthur watched him carefully. Surely he had known about Gwaine's plan to break Lancelot out of prison? Arthur found he couldn't hate Gwaine and Guinevere for what they'd done; they had been trying to protect their friend. Arthur might have resorted to the same thing himself if he hadn't managed to convince his father …

"How is the King?" he asked, keeping his voice strong and as regal sounding as he could.

Gaius' face fell. "His period of lucidity was short-lived I fear, Sire. He has once more taken to his bed. He is losing his mind."

Arthur's heart clenched as he heard these words, but this was no time to feel sorry for himself. He had to act.

"Very well," he said, "then it appears I have no other choice." He stood up in his throne and stepped forwards. "Since my father is incapacitated, and the kingdom in need of a leader, I must formally assume the regency and rule the kingdom in my father's stead."

The Court gasped; although Arthur had essentially been running the kingdom anyway, he'd never once formally made himself the Regent. He hadn't wanted to usurp his father, but now he had no other choice. He couldn't sit around helpless waiting for his father to recover, that wasn't about to happen. He had to take control, permanently.

He stepped down from the throne, feeling a new sort of sense of importance. He didn't feel the weight of leadership now, he just had to accept it.

"Everyone except my closest Knights and Gaius, leave the room," he ordered, and immediately, the room emptied with many hurried bows. He waited until they were all gone before turning to his Knights. He looked especially at Gaius.

"You know about this Portal more than any of us," he said. "Is there any point in evacuating the city?"

Gaius shook his head. "I'm afraid not," he said. "The Portal will affect far more than just this kingdom. We'd only be delaying the inevitable."

Arthur nodded, expecting as much. "Then we must think of something else …"

He looked at the Knights, seeing only blank faces. He turned back to Gaius and fixed him with a beady stare.

"Where is Merlin, Gaius?"

Gaius blinked. "I do not know, Sire."

"Don't say that," said Arthur, feeling his impatience rise. "You knew about the plot to break Lancelot out of the dungeons, I know you did. They met with Merlin. How did they know how to find him?"

"I honestly don't know, Sire," Gaius answered, sighing. "They didn't tell me how they were going to break him out. And I don't know how they managed to meet up with him."

Arthur took a step closer to Gaius and looked him in the eye. "Tell me the truth, Gaius," he said, trying to stay calm. "Since Merlin admitted to being Emrys and left the city, have you seen him? Have any of the others seen him?"

Gaius was silent for a moment, looking his age and looking down at his feet. The other Knights waited in anticipation.

"Yes."

Though he'd expected it, the answer still hit him like a blow to his heart. "Where?" Arthur asked him.

"In Camelot."

"In Camelot?" Arthur asked, while his Knights gasped with shock. "What was he doing in Camelot?"

"Healing Gwaine," Gaius said, looking back up at Arthur, this time unflinching. "After the attack, Merlin came back to Camelot. We let him in and he healed Gwaine; I didn't lie to you Sire, that wound would have been fatal if Merlin hadn't used magic to heal it. He left his dragon tooth behind, thereby willingly exposing himself to Dark Magic so that Gwaine would live."

Arthur stared at him, not sure what to say. "He healed Gwaine?" he asked, unable to believe it. "He actually risked coming back here to heal him?"

Gaius nodded. "He'd tried to protect him during the battle, but he got distracted, and Gwaine got hurt. He felt guilty for telling the Wandrian where the patrol would be."

"How did he know?" Arthur asked weakly, still trying to come to terms with this. Merlin had healed him?

"Gwen," said Gaius, "after Lancelot was captured, she assumed the position of keeping Merlin informed, even though it pained her to do so. She told Merlin where the patrol would be."

"Gwen did?" Arthur repeated faintly.

"It makes sense, Sire," said Elyan suddenly. "Gwen that morning, she was upset about something. She seemed sure we were going to be attacked, kept telling us to be careful."

"But why would she do that?" Arthur said, feeling a coldness seep through his heart. "Why risk your lives like that? How could she?"

"The swords," Gaius said. "Merlin had given her a potion to apply to the swords so that they would pass through the shields of the Wandrian. And he protected the Knights during the fight. She didn't do it lightly but she knew she had to, for Merlin's sake, and all of Camelot's."

Arthur took a step back shaking his head. Gwen had been spying on them? Was she that certain in Merlin's loyalties?

He couldn't believe it. All of them, working together with Merlin. He felt like some form of fool or worse, a tyrant that everyone was trying to overthrow. Could it be true?

Why would Merlin have come back to Camelot to heal Gwaine if he was evil? Gwaine had been dying, Arthur remembered, and his recovery had seemed like a miracle. It had been magic? Why would Merlin have done that?

"Why are you asking all of this, Sire?" Gaius asked, hesitating. "Do you finally realise the truth now?"

Arthur turned back to look at him. "Merlin is working against the Wandrian?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"He is," said Gaius. "And he has done more for you than you know, protecting you every step of the way. The most powerful sorcerer in all of existence, able to harness the power of the sun and moon, control the elements, control time and even have power over life and death willingly became your manservant. He would die to protect you."

"But he's still a sorcerer!" Arthur said, throwing his hands up. "Even if he was working against the Wandrian, why would he protect Camelot?"

"Because I believe in a better future, one that you can create."

Arthur froze and went cold all over as he heard that voice, _the _voice. It couldn't be …

He turned slowly on the spot to see a pale figure in dark robes standing in the doorway to the council chambers. It was Merlin.

He didn't look much different, only more tired, older. He was paler than usual, and looked just as careworn as he had in the weeks leading up to his departure. There were shadows under his eyes and he seemed to sway on the spot slightly, like he barely had the strength to stand up. But still, he stood there, and he smiled. Not the cold smile that had been on his face the night he had left for the Wandrian, but the sort of smile that Arthur remembered of his carefree and clumsy manservant.

He fixed Arthur with a piercing stare, and said nothing more.

Arthur heard Elyan, Percival and Leon draw their swords, but it was half-hearted. They too were staring at Merlin in shock, but oddly, not with hostility.

Arthur fixed his eyes on Merlin's.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, unable to say anything else.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Trying to save your ungrateful arse, _again._"

Arthur stared. He sounded just like the old Merlin …

"How did you get in here?" he asked. "How many guards did you kill?"

Merlin frowned. "None. But there'll be quite a few waking up with splitting headaches in a couple of hours."

He smiled again. "It wasn't hard to get in here, Arthur. But I'd expected to find your father instead."

"Why? So you could kill him?" Arthur asked, his ager rising.

"No," said Merlin, softly. "Because I knew he'd be beyond reason. But you …"

"What do you want?" Arthur asked, drawing his own sword, and holding it up, noting with anger that it shook a little.

"I told you," said Merlin, taking a step closer. "I'm here to help."

"I don't need your help," Arthur said immediately, his heart racing. _Why was he here?_

"Really?" Merlin asked. "You know where the Portal is?"

"Stop pretending!" Arthur burst out, unable to bear it any longer, completely forgetting his previous doubts when face to face with Merlin himself. "You're trying to help the Wandrian open the Portal!"

"I'm not," said Merlin loudly, his eyes flashing. "I hate them. And I'm doing everything I can to stop them."

"I thought they were your allies?" Arthur asked, the rage still building.

"They were never my allies," said Merlin, ever stepping closer. "You know that, Arthur. I was never loyal to them. I have always been loyal to Camelot."

"Why would a sorcerer be loyal to Camelot?" Arthur asked, still clutching his sword as Merlin continued coming closer. "Why would you care?"

"Because I want a better life for me and people like me," Merlin said, looking at Arthur intensely. "You can do that Arthur. I'm not like the others. I don't want to destroy Camelot, I want to help mould it into a better place. A place without corruption, greed, hate and fear. And I believe you're the person who can do that, and that's why I will always be loyal to you."

Arthur couldn't speak for a moment. Merlin was giving him that uncanny look he always had just before he said something annoyingly wise. There was no lie in his eyes. He could barely breathe. Was he a fool for wanting to believe what he was saying?

"You've been helping them," he said, "The grain, the attacks …"

"The grain didn't run out did it?" Merlin asked. "I replaced it all, and what's more, I convinced the Wandrian not to kill anyone. Every time I gave them something, I made sure it was also good for Camelot. I've been working against them the entire time, even if sometimes I thought I was going mad with the effect of the Dark Magic. You have to believe that Arthur."

"And all of it was an act?' Arthur asked. "The way you acted the night you left, the way the guards of the wagons were terrified of you? You were pretending?"

"I was," nodded Merlin. "I had to make it convincing, for the Wandrian, and for you."

"And how do I know that you're not pretending now either," Arthur asked, his heart thumping. "You have to admit, for someone that I used to think was a terrible liar, you've been quite good at fooling everybody."

"Not entirely," said Merlin, taking yet another step closer. "Because if you were entirely convinced that I was on their side, you would have tried to kill me the moment I appeared in this room. You doubt it Arthur. Trust that doubt, trust me."

"How can I?" Arthur asked, his voice thick. "You lied to me."

Merlin looked pained. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry!?" Arthur yelled. "My servant, my _friend_ turns out to be some legendary powerful sorcerer allied with my enemies and tells me he's been lying to me since the day we first met and he's _sorry!?"_

"I am," said Merlin, looking upset. "I don't know what else to say. I was afraid."

Arthur stopped feeling angry and betrayed for a moment and was confused. "Afraid?" he asked incredulously. "What could someone like you be afraid of?"

"This," said Merlin sadly looking down at the sword that Arthur was still pointing in his direction. "That you would hate me for being who I am. That you would forget that I swore to always serve you and stand by your side. Afraid that you'd turn me into your father, and I would lose everything."

Arthur froze. Afraid? Afraid of _him?_

Merlin smiled sadly. "What would you have done, Arthur? If I had told you I was a sorcerer on my own terms, what would you have done?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment. The room was silent.

"I don't know," Arthur found himself saying truthfully. "I don't know what I would have done."

Merlin nodded, accepting this. "You see? I didn't know either, and that's why I kept it a secret. I kept hoping that one day I could show you that magic wasn't evil, and you would make the kingdom into a better place."

Arthur found his sword lowering a little. Merlin watched it with hopeful eyes.

"What are you doing here, Merlin?" he asked, again, now only numb and his voice calmer. "Why are you here?"

"I need your help," Merlin said.

Arthur scoffed. "What help does a sorcerer need from someone as weak as me?"

"The Portal," said Merlin, speaking urgently now. "I know where it is, and I need your help and the others to help stop it from being opened."

"How?"

"I can shield you and the others," said Merlin, "Like I did during our last encounter. I can enchant your swords again. You can help me fight against them. I'll take you to the Portal. I need to stop Morgana, but I can't do it without your help."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to kill her?"

"Not if I can avoid it," Merlin said. "I've been trying to get her back on my side, and I thought I'd managed it, but … something happened, and she's back to being stuck in the middle. If I can get through to her, I can stop her opening the Portal and kill the Elders at the same time."

"You think Morgana can be saved?" Arthur asked, his voice was sarcastic, but his heart longing.

"Perhaps," said Merlin. "I have to try."

"And why are you doing this?' Arthur asked, dropping his sword completely, but still looking at Merlin with cold eyes. "If the best way to help Camelot was to stay with the Wandrian then why did you leave them? Why do you need us?"

Merlin hesitated, and a look of pain came over his face. "I … I killed one of the Elders," he said softly. "I almost let the darkness control me. I had to leave before I fell entirely."

"You almost used Dark Magic?" Arthur asked, feeling a shudder pass through him.

"Yes," said Merlin bitterly. "I couldn't resist it, so I had to leave. And I need your help."

"Why should I help you?" Arthur asked him, meeting his eyes, a deadened expression in them. "You've lied to me, manipulated, deceived and sneaked behind my back for years. Why should I help?"

"Because this isn't about you and me, Arthur," said Merlin, watching him with a frustrated expression. "If you don't believe me when I say I have Camelot's best interests at heart, then at least think about this: if the Portal is opened, there won't be anywhere that's safe. Sorcerers and Camelot will suffer side-by-side. I don't want this to happen, believe that if you believe nothing else. We can join forces, temporarily only if that's what you want. But we're running out of time. The Portal is on the other side of the kingdom and we only have until midnight to get there. Please, Arthur. You have to do this."

"Trust him, Arthur," a soft voice called from the back of the room.

Arthur wrenched his eyes away from Merlin's to look beyond him. Standing there in the entrance was Guinevere, a distressed expression on her face. Beside her stood Lancelot, Gwaine and some other youth that Arthur vaguely recognised. Gwen gave him a pleading look.

"Please, Arthur," she said. "We need to work together. We can worry about everything else later, but if we don't hurry there won't be a later at all! Please, you know you trust him. I can see it."

Arthur's heart ached as he looked at her desperate face. He wanted to believe her so badly it hurt. She had come back. They'd all come back.

"I will help you, if you need an old man," said Gaius, and he crossed the room and took a place next to Merlin. Merlin turned to smile at him. "Thank you, Gaius."

"And so will I," announced Elyan, sheathing his sword and moving to beside his sister, who threw her arms around him gratefully. He turned back to Arthur.

"I trust Gwen," he said, "and if she trusts Merlin, so do I."

Arthur just stared at him.

"And so do I," said Leon, also sheathing his sword, though more reluctantly. He looked to Arthur. "I've always believed magic to be evil, Sire. But Merlin, I had a hard time believing it of him, and I've had plenty of time to think. I saw him during the attack, the way he looked when Gwaine was injured and the way he attacked the sorcerer who had done it. That wasn't faked, Sire. I know it." He took a deep breath and looked at Merlin. "I'm still not comfortable with this magic," he said to him. "But, I will help you because it is the right thing to do. I'm willing to give you a chance."

Merlin grinned gratefully. Now, only Percival remained with Arthur. He tuned to face him

"And you?" Arthur asked staring. "Do you feel the same way?"

Percival hesitated and looked between Arthur and Merlin for a moment. "I do not believe magic itself is evil, Sire," he said. "And Lancelot is an old friend, and I know he'd never commit to this if he didn't believe in it. I never believed Merlin to be evil, not really. And if joining forces with magic is the only way to defeat the true evil, then I'm willing to do it."

And he too, crossed the room and took a place beside Lancelot. Arthur looked them all up and down.

"Am I to be abandoned by everyone I trust?" he asked, taking them all in.

"It isn't abandonment, Arthur," said Merlin, smiling. "They can see the truth, and so can you. You're just too afraid to admit it. You're too proud to admit to being deceived and that you might have been mistaken. I know you, Arthur. Please."

Arthur stood staring at them all for another moment or two. Then, as though every step was weighed down by some great weight, he stepped forwards until he was directly in front of Merlin.

Up close, he looked even worse, and genuinely as though he'd been suffering. Had he really willingly put himself through all of this for Camelot's sake? Had Arthur been the real fool? Had he been the one who had truly betrayed his friend?

Merlin watched him anxiously.

"Fine," said Arthur, looking at Merlin expressionlessly. "I'll help you stop Morgana. But after that …"

"I understand," said Merlin sadly. "I only hope one day I can convince you."

_So do I,_ thought Arthur sadly. _God, I hope you're telling the truth._

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! We're getting near the end of the story now! Next update will be soon :)**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews!**

* * *

It was surreal, Merlin thought to himself, standing once more in the courtyard in Camelot after almost two weeks of being away and considered Camelot's worst enemy. Knights were milling here and there and almost every one of them was giving him hostile glares. Merlin knew that if Arthur hadn't expressly forbidden it, many would even now be attacking him.

Arthur had summoned as many men as he could muster and was preparing to set out for the Portal. Merlin and the others were standing in the centre of the courtyard, Gwaine, Lancelot and the others standing around him just in case any Knight tried to attack him; quite needlessly as Merlin was quite capable of protecting himself, but he appreciated the gesture.

The fact that so many of them had been willing to trust him was such a relief he hadn't realised just how heavily thoughts of them had been weighing down on him. To have Leon on his side, a man who had spent many years fighting against sorcerers and believing they were evil, well, it was more than he could have hoped for.

The other Knights, the ones Merlin hadn't been so close to were not convinced however, and many felt that their Prince was making a huge mistake. But true to their unfailing loyalty, they said nothing and followed orders, however reluctantly and however much they glared at Merlin.

Merlin didn't care however, as long as his friends believed in him he could take whatever anyone else threw at him.

Except … _Arthur._

Merlin was watching him even now. He was packing up his horse, and avoiding looking at Merlin as much as possible. Merlin felt this like a literal blow to the heart. Arthur … why was he still resisting? Was his pride worth that much?

Merlin sighed, and he started adjusting the saddle of the horse he'd been given to avoid looking at Arthur himself. He had to convince him. Once they'd stopped Morgana, maybe things would be different. Arthur would realise what an idiot he was.

Gwaine saw him looking away. "He'll come around, you know," he said, gesturing to Arthur. "The fact he didn't kill you as soon as you walked in has to be a good sign."

"How am I supposed to convince him when he won't even look at me?" Merlin asked, sighing. "He's desperate. He's only joining with us now because he literally has no other way of possibly defeating the Wandrian. Once we've done it … what then?"

"He'll be on his knees begging you to forgive him once he sees what you've done for Camelot," said Gwaine firmly, nodding to Merlin. "He'll see it. I know he will."

Merlin smiled back, but his heart was still heavy. He only hoped.

A horn blew, and Merlin looked up to see Arthur mounting his horse. The other Knights and Merlin followed suit. Arthur looked around at them all.

"Today," he began, his voice carrying over the noise of the horses. "We ride out to save not only our kingdom, but that of the future. To many of you, this no doubt seems to be a hopeless cause, but not to me. I trust in each and every one of you, and I know that it is our loyalty, our faith and our courage that will save us today. For the love of Camelot!"

The Knights withdrew their swords and cried out after him. "For the love of Camelot!"

Arthur nodded to his men, and spurred his horse forwards and they began streaming out the gates, their scarlet cloaks flapping in the wind. Merlin followed with the others. Gwaine, Elyan, Lancelot, Leon and Percival rode with him, and even Gwen had come, insistent about not being left behind. Gehola was riding on the back of her horse, having never ridden before and fallen off the horse they had tried to give him to begin with.

They all rode in silence for a while, Merlin feeling a growing sense of anticipation. Once they were clear of the city itself, he motioned to the others. "Give me a minute."

He spurred his horse forwards, and picked his way through the stream of Knights to the very front where Arthur was, sitting rigidly in his saddle, determined eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"Nice speech," Merlin said, once he'd reached the spot beside him, noticing Arthur's back stiffen as he spoke. "Am I included in the ones that you trust?"

Arthur didn't look at him. "Once you would have been," he said. "But now I'm not so sure."

"I haven't changed, Arthur," Merlin said. "You just know more about me."

Arthur laughed humourlessly. "Perhaps, you were always a riddle, Merlin. I just never knew how much of a one."

Merlin shrugged. "Well, that's all my secrets exhausted now."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Truly? You don't have anything else you're concealing?"

Merlin thought for a moment. "Not that I'm aware of, I've told you everything."

"Makes a change."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said again. "Truly I am. I've hated myself for years for the lies I've had to tell you. I hope one day you'll let me make it up to you."

Arthur said nothing to this, and they rode in silence for a few more minutes, Merlin waiting patiently; the next move was Arthur's.

Arthur turned his head slightly and looked at Merlin, searching his face and frowning. Merlin turned his as well and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

Arthur said nothing and turned back to face the front.

"You were looking to see if I'd been using Dark Magic, weren't you?" Merlin said. "Making sure my eyes weren't black and the skin rotting off my body."

"Can you blame me?" Arthur said. "You've been working with them for so long. How do I know you didn't get tempted to turn to their form of magic?"

"I was," said Merlin quietly. "So badly. But I fought it, and even though I couldn't always keep the darkness away, I never used their magic. The very thought of it …"

He shuddered and Arthur nodded. "I saw what the Dark Magic does to a man."

"You didn't have to live with them," said Merlin darkly. "You have no idea how bad it really is. Their valley, completely filled with death and despair. Scores of people crying out in the night, begging for death to release them from their living nightmare. The stench of decay every time I had to meet with one of them, the sight of their putrid flesh, seeing their skin literally drop off their bodies, yet still they live. You have no idea, Arthur."

"Then why did you do it," said Arthur, looking disgusted. "Why put yourself through it?"

"Because Camelot was in danger," Merlin said simply. "And I was the only one who could do it."

Arthur looked at him for a long moment, and the anger and hurt seemed to be gone. He was looking at him like he'd never done before. It was almost _respect._

Then, Arthur turned and looked back to the column of men behind them. His eyes narrowed.

"Who is that boy?" Arthur asked, obviously referring to Gehola. "I'm almost certain I've seen him before."

"You have," said Merlin. "He was with me the night I … well, when I told you who I was. He'd come to see me, wanting to spare me from going back and forth to that place. But he's never lived anywhere else, and he's not so good at sneaking around. He helped me break Hyre out of the dungeons as well."

"Hyre?' Arthur asked, "That madman?"

"Yes," said Merlin. "He died not long after we got back. He wasn't a danger anyway, he was too insane and ruined to use magic. The Wandrian had told me to break him out, a test of my faithfulness."

"They didn't trust you?"

"No," said Merlin, "they didn't. I wasn't being converted to Dark Magic, and they didn't like that. And then Morgana showed up, and in my efforts to bring her back, I think they got even more suspicious. Morgana knew I would never betray Camelot."

"So you've seen her?" Arthur asked, and his tone was casual, but Merlin detected something deeper there.

"Yes," said Merlin heavily. "And I thought she was coming over, but something happened to confuse her again."

Arthur nodded briefly and looked away, obviously trying to mask his disappointment. Merlin could tell he'd been hoping desperately that she'd changed.

"So, that boy …"

"Gehola," said Merlin.

"Gehola … why is he here with you? Is there actually any of those people that have goodness in them?"

"He's the only one," said Merlin. "He's been stuck with the Wandrian ever since his parents were killed in the Purge. But he never turned to Dark Magic. He fought it."

Arthur started and turned to faced Merlin again. "His parents were killed in the Purge?" he asked, a slight tone of horror to his voice. "His parents were executed in Camelot, but he's still on our side?"

"He wasn't at first," said Merlin honestly, "they'd brainwashed him into thinking Camelot was a place of evil. But I convinced him that there was good in Camelot yet."

He looked pointedly at Arthur as he said this, and Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "And why did he listen to you?"

"He's a good man," Merlin said, "he's suffered a lot in his life. He kept me sane, for the most part and was the only friend I had in that place, and I promised myself I'd do what I could for him after all of this was over. He deserves a chance to live in peace, away from those people."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Typical you, Merlin. Always going soft over defenceless creatures."

Merlin smiled. "You know me, Arthur."

"Do I?" Arthur asked, frowning. "Just how well do I know you now, Merlin? Just what is your real name anyway? Merlin or Emrys?"

"Merlin," he replied immediately. "It's the name my mother gave me, and the one I've known my entire life. But Emrys is what the Druids call me, which is supposedly my 'true name' whatever that means. They think I'm the Emrys from prophecy."

"And do you think that?" Arthur asked watching him closely.

"Yes," said Merlin, looking straight ahead, feeling a strange sensation wash over him as he said this. "I know I am. I'm the one who is destined to do this, and I've accepted that fact."

"You're letting yourself be ruled by destiny?" Arthur asked.

"No," Merlin said quietly, talking to himself now, more than Arthur. "It's who I am. I can't escape that, and I'm sick of trying. I _know_ it now, more strongly than I ever have before."

Arthur frowned and looked away. "I don't understand any of this."

"Neither do I," admitted Merlin. "But I trust in it anyway."

"I wish I had such blind trust," Arthur said so quietly Merlin wondered whether he had heard him. "It'd make things a hell of a lot easier."

Merlin pretended not to hear this, and they fell into another silence. This time, neither of them broke it for several hours. Merlin eventually turned his horse around and headed back to the others, ignoring the stares he was getting from the less-than-friendly other Knights.

"Well?" Lancelot asked him as soon as he'd brought his horse back in line with them. "What was he saying?"

Merlin sighed. "The main issue with him isn't the fact that he doesn't believe I'm on your side, it's that he can't forgive me for what I did."

"He's been questioning your loyalty the entire time," said Elyan. "We all were, and if I know him, he never really believed you'd turned against us. He was just afraid to let himself believe it."

"He'll forgive you," said Leon. "If I can, me who's hated magic my entire life …" he broke off for a moment and sighed. "I know you Merlin, and I've come to respect you. And for that reason, I'm willing to put my trust in you. You've proven over the last few weeks that you're on our side, the clues were there for everyone to see. And I know firsthand how ruthless this city is towards sorcerers. I can understand why you didn't come forward."

"Thanks," Merlin said, smiling. "It means a lot. I didn't really expect you all to forgive me so quickly."

"You underestimated us, Merlin," said Gwen. "We're not ruthless you know."

"I used to think you were," said Gehola, from his spot behind Gwen. "I've always been afraid of Camelot. I was more scared of Camelot than I was of the Wandrian. I'm so glad I was wrong."

Percival was frowning. "You're right, Merlin. Making Camelot a place to be feared doesn't actually solve anything. It only isolates it from the people that might defend it. If magic hadn't been illegal, from what you've all told me of Morgana, I doubt she would have left. I'm just glad that you weren't as easily swayed, Merlin. Camelot is lucky to have you."

Leon laughed. "It's funny," he said. "Just two weeks ago, straight after you'd left, we all hated you. We all felt so betrayed and angry. And now look where we are."

Merlin smiled. "I'm sorry I had to do that," he said sincerely.

"And we're sorry for doubting you," Elyan said. "Thank goodness for Lancelot and Gwen."

Gwen blushed and smiled. "It wasn't hard to see the truth."

"But you alone had the courage to trust in it," said Elyan, smiling at his sister. "Thank you."

They rode for several more hours, not stopping. The day wore on and Merlin glanced up to the midday sun nervously. They only had half a day left before the Portal could be opened. The magic around the Portal prevented anyone from Transporting there, would they get there in time?

But Merlin reminded himself, the Wandrian couldn't magic themselves in either. They'd also have to go on foot. Would they be on their way even now? Would Morgana be with them?

As the midday sun rose ever higher, Arthur called a halt to the procession and they all dismounted and spread out around a large clearing in the forest. A hasty meal was prepared, and the soldiers began readying themselves for battle; they wouldn't stop again until they reached the Portal.

Merlin looked up to see Arthur approached, his jaw tight.

"You said you'd enchanted the Knight's swords to pierce the magical shields?" he asked.

Merlin nodded. "I did, but that was days ago. The spells have probably worn off by now. I'd have to do them again."

Arthur nodded. "And you're certain they'll work against them?"

"Our swords passed right through the shields," said Percival, stepping forwards. "If we hadn't had those, we would have been killed."

Arthur nodded again, and looked like he was thinking hard. He sighed, as though he'd come to a decision he wasn't best pleased with.

Slowly, he withdrew his sword, and held it out to Merlin. He fixed Merlin with an intense stare.

"Very well, if this is the only means of attack we have against them, you'd best get busy. Start with mine."

Merlin blinked in surprise. Arthur was actually _asking_ him to use magic?

He nodded, and took the sword from Arthur's hands. Arthur watched with wary eyes as Merlin took a firm grasp of it.

"_Adreogan __æghwæs_ _clustor. Gebeorgan se_ _agan,"_ Merlin incanted, holding his palm over the blade. His eyes flashed golden, and he heard several gasps from those around him.

The sword glowed with a golden light, and hummed slightly as the spell passed through it. Once it had finished, Merlin handed it back to Arthur.

"There," he said.

"That's it?" Arthur asked, staring at Merlin in a new light; uncertainly, and a little bit awestruck.

"It is," said Merlin. "Now I'd best get started on everyone else's."

And he turned away from Arthur, taking the swords proffered by his friends and enchanted them one by one. Arthur watched the entire time, a strange expression on his face. The rest of the Knights were more wary however; they didn't want to give up their precious weapons to be enchanted by their former enemy. But some glares from Lancelot and Gwaine made them reconsider. Merlin worked his way round the entire camp, feeling himself get more and more weary with every spell. Gehola soon jumped in and helped, but he was even more nervous when faced with some very suspicious soldiers.

Eventually all of them were done, and Arthur came up to him once more. "And what about the magic that the Wandrian will be using against them?" he asked.

"I can help to shield them at first," said Merlin. "But guarding so many all at once will exhaust me too easily, and I'll need most of my strength to deal with Hafela. For most of the time they'll just have to rely on their reflexes to avoid being hit I'm afraid."

Arthur sighed. "At least we're not defenceless, that's the main thing."

Merlin watched him carefully. "What are you planning to do when we get there?"

"I'm sticking by you," Arthur said. "I'm not letting you face the Elders and Morgana on your own."

Merlin felt something stir within him. "You mean you actually care what happens to me?"

"Not exactly," said Arthur and he shot Merlin a smirk reminiscent of the old days. "I'm not about to give you all the credit. And besides, I want the chance to kill you myself for lying to me when we get out of there."

Merlin smiled, but couldn't help but wince at the word 'kill'. In this context he knew it was only a joke, but just a few weeks ago, he knew it might have been genuine threat.

After that, they didn't stay around for much longer. The camp was struck and they all mounted their horses once more. Now, something had changed. The day was growing darker, and the trees tossed and roared in the wind. Merlin felt a growing foreboding grow within him. So soon now …

Would he be able to protect them? Would he fail? What then?

Suddenly, Arthur stopped. "Merlin?"

Merlin immediately rode forwards, to find Arthur pointing at something through the trees.

"The Samod river."

Merlin's heart grew cold. So near …

Arthur looked to him. "You said to head for here, now where?"

"We follow it," said Merlin. "Eventually, the waters will turn black and eventually dry up. The Portal is there."

"This river doesn't dry up," said Arthur frowning. "It runs right to the sea."

"It's a trick," explained Merlin. "Designed to confuse people. It's a disguise."

"They can alter the very landscape?" Arthur asked in wonder.

"Yes," said Merlin. "And we'd best hurry. I don't know how far down the river the Portal is, and the day is wearing on."

They left the path, and as one great silent procession, they moved down the banks of the river, ever on guard. Merlin felt as though the very trees were watching him, a dark menace seemed to be growing closer, though he wasn't sure whether that was because there was a genuine threat, or because he knew what lay at the end of this river.

Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Gwen, Gehola, Leon and Percival had now joined the head of the procession with Arthur and Merlin. Their eyes flitted from side to side. No one was at ease.

The daylight began to fade, and Merlin's heart beat faster. They had to hurry.

"Look," Gwaine said, pointing.

Merlin's heart stopped as he saw the river had suddenly changed colour in the moonlight. It now ran black, black like the putrid liquid that had spilled from the mouths of the Wandrian every time they had laughed. He felt sick.

"We're getting close," said Merlin, and moved on again.

He could feel it. He could feel the Dark Magic approaching. It seemed to fill him with a pestilence. But he resisted it. He didn't have time for that now. He couldn't afford to fail now.

The presence of Dark Magic seemed almost overwhelming now. He sat jolt upright in his horse and stopped. Arthur spun around to face him, alert. "What is it?"

But Merlin didn't answer. Something was wrong. Something was coming.

"Merlin?"

"They're here," Merlin said, in horror. He leapt off his horse and the others followed suit. The air was soon filled with the sounds of people drawing their swords. And not a moment too soon.

A fierce war cry sounded out from the slopes above them. Merlin wheeled around to see about ten of the Wandrian sorcerers coming racing towards them, their blackened eyes already glinting with green as spell after spell issued from their palms.

Merlin immediately conjured a powerful shield spell and wrapped it around the gathered Knights. He felt the energy drain out of him as the spells hammered against it, the Dark Magic eating away at his own magic. But they held strong.

Arthur cried out and ran forwards, his sword glinting in the moonlight. The closest sorcerer cackled and made straight for him, the skin literally peeling away from his skull. But Arthur did not falter. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down on the sorcerer, whose black eyes widened in fear as he realised his shield was worthless.

The other Knights made short work of the other sorcerers, who were caught completely unawares by the ability of the Knights to hurt them. They sent spells rushing towards the Knights, but every one bounced off harmlessly.

When the last one had been killed, Arthur turned to look at Merlin with a strange sense of gratitude. "It really worked."

"Of course it did," said Merlin. "If there's one thing I'm good at, it's magic."

For a moment, it almost looked as though Arthur was going to laugh.

"Emrys!"

Merlin wheeled around to find one last sorcerer glaring at him; one he recognised as Gifre.

"You traitor!" he screamed, rotten flesh in his mouth spilling down his face. "You dirty-rotten-treacherous-"

"_Acwellan!"_ Merlin yelled before Gifre could get any closer.

The force of his spell broke right through Gifre's shield and hit him full on the chest, throwing him several feet backwards, where he collapsed on the ground, a great hole burned through his chest as the remaining uncorrupted parts of his body turned black and rotten.

Merlin looked down at him. "You've some nerve calling _me_ rotten, Gifre."

He turned back to the others to find most of them staring at him in awe, and a bit of fear.

Arthur was looking absolutely amazed. "You killed him," he said, staring. "You killed him, just like that."

"Um, yes?"

Arthur looked outraged. "And to think of all the times I've risked my life in battle to save you and you could do that the entire time!"

Merlin smiled. "Well, Gifre was one of the nastier ones. I couldn't resist."

Arthur shook his head, still staring at the body. "I can't believe you, Merlin …"

Gehola was grinning however. "Oh, I _hated_ Gifre!"

Gwaine laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. "I think I'm beginning to like you, kiddo."

But Merlin couldn't laugh. He was listening intently. "Do you hear that?"

They all stopped, and in the distance, they could hear terrified cries. Arthur raised his sword once again, now black with the sickening blood of the Wandrian. "Follow me."

And they did, leaving the horses where they were so as to be as silent as possible. Merlin's heart was racing. Were there more of them up ahead?

But he stopped worrying as they passed around a huge rock and saw a small clearing by the side of the river. Sitting on the ground were around twenty Druids, tied with thick rope, struggling fiercely. They stopped their struggling as Arthur approached.

The one who appeared to be the oldest looked up at Arthur with solemn eyes. "Arthur Pendragon," he said slowly. "We have been expecting you."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "Who are you?"

"I am Wacian," the Druid replied. "The leader of the guardians of the Portal."

"You're not doing a very good job in protecting the Portal," Arthur observed, as Gwen hurried forwards to untie them.

"This moment was foretold," Wacian said. "This is one fight we were not intended to win."

"I can't untie them," Gwen said, looking up at Arthur. "There's something stopping me."

"They're magical binds," said Merlin stepping forwards. "Here: _alisan!_"

The ropes dropped from around the Druids, but none of them moved. They were looking up at Merlin with unconcealed wonder and joy.

Wacian stood up and approached him, delight all over his aged face. Suddenly, he bowed.

"Welcome, Lord Emrys."

"_Lord?"_ Arthur asked incredulously, turning to look at Merlin. "You're a _lord?_"

Merlin didn't look at him, he was too disconcerted by the fact that now all the Druids had stood up and were bowing before him, most of them far older than he was.

"You don't need to do that," Merlin mumbled, uncomfortable.

Wacian stood and looked confused. "You are the one we have been waiting for all these years, my Lord. We are overjoyed to see you. Why should we not show you the respect you deserve?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "You sound just like Gehola did when we first met. Just tell us where the Portal is."

Wacian's face drained of all happiness. "The Wandrian arrived not more than an hour ago," he said darkly. "The Prophesied One was with them. They overpowered us and progressed to the cave which holds the Portal."

"It's in a cave?"

"Yes," the Druid answered. "Deep within the earth. That is where you must go, Emrys."

"Of course it is," sighed Merlin. "Go into the dark and creepy cave. Evil things are never in the middle of a bright and sunny meadow …"

"How far away is it?" Arthur asked.

''Not far," Wacian answered. "Follow the river and head east when it runs dry. But you will not need directions. You will sense it. Even the non-Gifted amongst you will feel its presence."

Merlin nodded. "And will you come?"

"We are the Guardians only," Wacian answered. "We were charged with guarding the Portal until the day when you would come. We have done our duty."

"You mean you won't help?" Arthur asked, annoyed. "We need more sorcerers on our side!"

Merlin turned to Arthur in amazement. Had he actually just said that?

Wacian smiled. "We cannot, for it is not within our power to defeat the Evil Ones. But I commend your thinking, young Pendragon. Your friends will need you, and you will need to give the ultimate trust before the end."

"What does that mean?"

"Never try and get a straight answer out of Druids," said Merlin, sighing. "They're even worse than dragons."

Wacian bowed once more. "Have faith, Lord Emrys. All that you fear can be avoided. Do not despair."

Wacian retreated, until he was standing in a line with the other Druids. They watched them silently.

"Is that it?" Gwaine asked. "No more help?"

"It is not ours to give."

"Cowards," grumbled Gwaine.

"Come on," Merlin said to them all, before they got angry with the Druids. He knew they were right; they couldn't help. The next part had to be done on their own.

They crept forwards in the darkness, Merlin leading the way. The looming presence of Dark Magic grew ever stronger. It filled the air with an almost tangible taste, until even Arthur and the others could feel it. It was a crushing presence all around him.

Eventually, the sound of the splashing water faded away. Merlin climbed down the bank to find the river bed dry and cracked. He climbed back up.

"The Portal is near," he said. He closed his eyes, and fought his way through the confusing mass of shadows and agonising figures that seemed to scream in the darkness, searching for the source of all the darkness. "This way."

And, taking a deep breath, he led the way once more into the mass of dark trees, his friends on either side.

Now, their destiny would be decided.

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**A/N: Please leave a review! Only two more chapters remaining! Will be posted soon :)**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: Thanks for your reviews!**

* * *

Merlin's heart was in his throat as he crept on through the dead trees, his friends and the Knights of Camelot beside and behind him. He felt a trembling spread through his whole body, but it wasn't fear, but anticipation. Now, after so many weeks of hardship and pain would it finally end.

Arthur was beside him, his sword drawn and ready, his eyes flicking from side to side in readiness for attack. Gwaine and the others were doing likewise. They were all following Merlin, and Merlin hoped their trust in him was not misplaced.

But he didn't think so. He felt a curious sensation within him. This was what he was _meant_ to do. This is what he'd been building up to for so long. He couldn't fail. This was his destiny, and he trusted in it.

He moved on and on through the dark forest, the moon still shining brightly overhead. How long was it now until midnight? How long before Morgana would open the Portal? He had to hurry.

Almost as soon as he thought this, the narrow path through the trees opened out into a vast clearing before a wall of stone in which there was an enormous gaping hole, reeking with death and decay, a cold wind rushing from it, forewarning them of the evil within.

Before they could do so much as get near it however-

"_Acwellan!"_

Three members of the Wandrian came running from the trees, screaming curses as their blackened eyes flashed green. Merlin hurriedly raised a shield and stopped the spells, but they kept on coming, closer and closer-

"You will not stop us!" screeched one, whose pitch black mouth was oozing putrid flesh. "This is our destiny! You cannot fight the Noble Art-"

He was soon silenced however. With a mighty yell, Arthur darted forwards and lunged with his sword, slicing through magical shield and flesh alike. The man screamed in pain and fell to the ground, inky black liquid spilling from his wound. He twitched slightly, and then was still.

Arthur looked around to find that Leon and Gwaine had finished off the other two sorcerers equally as quickly. He looked at Merlin.

"Why didn't you help?"

"You seemed to be doing fine on your own," remarked Merlin, gesturing to the dead bodies. "I managed to block their spells, but you'll have to be able to kill them on your own. I'll have the Elders to deal with, and they're much more powerful than these ones."

Arthur looked down at them and an expression of disgust crossed his features. "Noble Art?" he asked. "Is that really what they call it?"

"Yes," said Merlin, moving over for a better look. "They think all _this_ is a blessing."

Arthur looked incredulous.

"But … why does it affect them like that? How does Dark Magic actually work? And why is it so important for the Portal to be opened?"

"Dark Magic works because it converts the power of the Old Religion into darkness," explained Merlin. "The Old Religion is present throughout the world and in every living thing, and the Wandrian take this magic to use it for their own dark purposes. The convert the magic within their own bodies, and that's why they're so ruined; everyone needs the Old Religion to survive. By opening the Portal, the entire world will be turned to darkness, and they'll be able to use that magic instead of the magic inside of them. They planned to seize Camelot and rule from there, harnessing the power of the magic that comes from the Portal."

Arthur seemed to shudder involuntarily. "It's hard to believe that such evil can exist."

"Well, it does," said Merlin, moving past him and walking towards the cave entrance. He felt chills spreading through his entire body. He was utterly repulsed by the magic that lay within the cave, and wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. But he stayed his ground.

"Come on," he gestured to the others. "The Elders and Morgana will already be down here."

"Is it wise to go on after them like this?" Leon asked. "We could easily find ourselves trapped. Small narrow caves aren't the best place to fight."

Merlin thought for a moment. "You're right," he said finally. "There aren't that many of the Wandrian to begin with, and we've killed twenty four within the last week alone. The Elder's inner circle is about twenty, and they'll be guarding the Elders, the others are much weaker and more easily dealt with. I'll have to head straight for the inner circle and the Elders and draw their fire. Some of you should come with me and scatter the rest of them, driving them out of the cave where the rest of you can finish them off."

Arthur nodded, and looked at Merlin closely. "I never thought you'd ever listened to my tactic talks, Merlin." He motioned for the Knights to come closer. "Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, Lancelot and Percival, you all come with me and Merlin and attack this inner circle. Sir Cadoc, you bring your unit inside as well and tackle the remaining sorcerers, force them outside. The rest of you, wait here and deal with any that try to escape."

"There will be plenty that'll try," said Merlin. "When we attacked the patrol, most of them were terrified when they found out the Knights could penetrate their shields. They have no real loyalty, and none have any courage."

"Good," said Elyan. "They'll be easier to pick off."

"Be careful though," warned Merlin. "They're still dangerous, and will be even more so when cornered. They're insane, remember. They have nothing to lose."

The Knights nodded their understanding, and they all moved to assume positions. The inner Knights and Arthur were soon the only ones near Merlin.

"Now what?" Arthur asked him.

Merlin was momentarily speechless, so unaccustomed was he to be giving _Arthur_ orders.

He turned and faced the gaping hole in front of him, feeling anxiety and his fear drain away.

"Follow me."

Arthur felt the familiar fire in his veins as he began to creep into the chasm before him, following Merlin as silently as possible. This was what he liked; solid confrontation, not hiding away in a city trying to fight shadows. It felt good to be finally taking action against the people who had been making his life a misery.

There was still a stinging in his heart as he looked at Merlin and spoke to him. Finally, after such a long time debating with himself and doubting his own certainties, Arthur had come to realise Merlin had been on their side. Yes, he'd known it all along. It was the only thing that had made sense, even if his motives still remained unclear.

No, Arthur no longer blamed Merlin for helping the Wandrian, how could he after everything he had seen this evening alone? But Arthur had certainly not forgiven him yet, not like the others. Merlin had still lied to him, betrayed his trust, and Arthur wasn't sure yet whether that bond between them was able to be repaired.

But he drew his mind away from that for the moment. Now wasn't the time. The Wandrian Elders and the Portal were close, even he with no magic whatsoever could sense it, a creeping cold decay that seemed to seep into every inch of his being, body and soul alike. The men behind him shivered, and Arthur could tell why. This place was pure evil.

He focused on the back of Merlin's head, dark in the semi-light. He was creeping along, more quietly than Arthur would ever have credited him capable of doing only a few weeks ago. His whole body was tense, and he was on edge. If a sorcerer of such power was so afraid …

Arthur clutched his sword more tightly. Tonight, for better or for worse, it was going to end.

Merlin stopped suddenly. He turned to face the others. He nodded.

Arthur's heart leapt. This was it.

Merlin was standing behind a massive rock, around which there was a large open space. Arthur heard voices coming from behind it.

He took one final deep breath.

He leapt out from behind the rock and yelled: "For the love of Camelot!"

His Knights did likewise and they charged with him, all echoing his cry.

Arthur almost stopped in surprise when he saw what was before him. It was a massive cavern, light by an eerie green glow that came from near the back of the chamber. Here, was the thing that almost made Arthur's very heart stop. A great gap was in the back wall, like a doorway into another world. In it there seemed to be a fluttering of activity, ghostly shapes of men and animals inside of it, each crying out with tormented voices. An icy blast seemed to be coming from it. What seemed like a veil of sheer material, almost ethereal seemed to be hanging there, a flimsy barrier from the evil within.

Next to this, was a mass of mutilated men and women, their skin rotten and their eyes black with madness. They had circled themselves around some others who Arthur could not see. But before this group, was another. A mass of Wandrian sorcerers were now coming towards him, screaming their insane cries, their dark eyes gleaming with green.

"_HIlderand!"_ Arthur heard Merlin cry, and immediately, a shimmering barrier of light seemed to envelop Arthur and his Knights. Spell after spell from the Wandrian seemed to hit this barrier, each one crashing into it with a resounding gong like sound, making bright lights and sparks light up every inch of the cavern.

Arthur felt his body harden into battle mode. This was just like any other fight.

He lifted his sword and swung it in the direction of the nearest sorcerer. The man's eyes went wide when he realised his shield was useless.

Arthur quickly finished the man, and the next one who came his way, trying not to cringe in revulsion when he saw the tarry substance that passed as blood spilling from their ruined bodies. He couldn't consign himself to these ones. His aim was to get to the inner circle.

He pushed through the crowd, ignoring with difficulty every sorcerer that came his way. It went against every instinct he had, to ignore people trying to kill him, trusting to a magical shield, but he did it. He didn't take his eyes off the inner circle before him.

One of them saw him approaching and came towards him, black substance dripping from their mouth. Arthur stood his ground. The sorcerer blasted some green energy at him, and Arthur, forgetting momentarily that he was shielded, dodged out of the way and spun around, lifting his sword high. He brought it down on the sorcerer before him with as much strength as he could muster, and the sorcerer cried out as they died.

But Arthur had been distracted. Out of the corner of his eye he saw three sorcerers break off from the main group and come screaming towards him. He couldn't fight them all. Merlin's shield wouldn't last forever.

He raised his sword, frantically trying to think of a way out of this-

Suddenly the chamber was filled with a huge flash that seemed to blind Arthur for a split second. When he opened his eyes, the saw the three sorcerers lying before him. They had been burnt to a crisp.

Arthur wheeled around, trying to figure out what had happened. His eyes fell on a figure across the chamber, his hand outstretched. It was Merlin.

He nodded to Arthur briefly, and then turned his eyes on the rest of the inner circle. Arthur did also. Sir Cadoc and his unit had driven most of the other sorcerers out of the cave and all that remained now was Lancelot, Gwaine, Leon, Elyan, Percival, Arthur, Merlin and Gehola along with the rest of the inner circle. So far their plan was working.

Arthur regrouped with his Knights, all of whom seemed to be splattered with that sickening black substance. The remainder of the inner circle of the Wandrian seemed to be laughing with insanity. They raised their hands as one and cried out with harsh tongues: _"Acwellan!"_

Their spells combined into one fiery green torrent and came rushing towards them, drowning out all other vision. It hit the shield before the Knights with such force Arthur felt himself stumble backwards. The shield before them seemed to be flickering.

Arthur went cold. If that shield failed … none of them would be able to survive a blast like that …

They all raised their hands again, this time, the spell would almost definitely break through-

"Stop!"

The Wandrian stopped in surprise and looked to a spot behind Arthur and the Knights. Arthur took advantage of their confusion and looked too.

Merlin was walking forward calmly, his eyes fixed on the sorcerers. Arthur felt a cold thrill as he looked at him. He looked as he had done the night Arthur had discovered his identity. His face was set and determined, his bearing proud and almost regal. Every inch of him seemed to radiate with power.

How had Arthur never noticed the magic there before? It was plain in every inch of his face. Merlin _was_ magic.

Merlin continued walking forwards, not betraying the slightest bit of fear. He stopped just before the inner circle.

They glanced at each other, and cackled, disgusting black liquid spilling from their throats as they did so. Merlin didn't flinch.

The sorcerers parted, looking gleefully at Merlin, and Arthur saw who they had been protecting. There were two sorcerers there, and Arthur could tell at once that these were the Elders. One was incredibly old, his back bent over and a hand was missing, his skin rotten and his eyes dark. The other was younger, but even more decayed. He seemed to be exuding danger with his very presence.

Morgana stood between them, just before the Portal. Her face was pale and unlike the last time he had seen her, she didn't look strong and powerful. She looked afraid, lost and confused. Arthur felt his heart soften as he looked at her. Could she still be redeemed? Could Merlin possibly be right?

Merlin's eyes however were not on Morgana, but on one of the Elders. He made no move to speak. The Elder smiled, displaying a rotten mass of a mouth. He began to speak in a guttural voice, impeded by the rotten flesh.

"At last, you come to us, Emrys," he said, leering at Merlin. "But why? Did you really think you could stop us?"

Merlin smiled. "Of course, Hafela. Why do you think I put up with your rotten stench for so long?"

Hafela's leer broadened. "You always intended to betray us then? But what about everything you said? About the suffering you endured under Uther' tyranny, your hatred for the city that made you feel like an outsider, the rage at your murdered brothers? Have you forgotten all that?"

Arthur's eyes flicked back to Merlin. Had he really said all of that?

Merlin was still smiling however. "No, I have not," he said quietly. "And most of it is still true. But I have faith in a better future. The killing must end."

Hafela laughed. "And that is why you killed Wrecan then? I saw his body; you were very thorough. Ruthless almost …"

Arthur felt another chill as Hafela spoke. He glanced at Merlin, but still, he was smiling, but now there was a touch of danger in his eyes.

Hafela spoke again. "You need not have bothered, Emrys. There is nothing you can do to stop us now."

"Is that so?" Merlin asked, stepping forwards. "I think not."

Hafela laughed. "And you hope to convince me to change my mind?"

"Oh no," said Merlin. "You're a lost cause, Hafela, and you too, Gamol. You're both going to have agonising deaths from the evil art that you practice. I'm not speaking to you."

His eyes now swiveled to face Morgana, who froze.

"Please, Morgana," Merlin said, and now his voice was no longer dangerous, but pleading. "You don't want this."

"I have to do this," she said, almost weakly, and Arthur saw a complete change from the evil woman he had last seen, and even from the strong person he'd known from childhood. "There's no other way."

"You don't believe that," said Merlin gently. "Not really."

He looked around, his arms outstretched. "You see? Arthur is here, and so are the Knights of Camelot. All isn't lost, Morgana. You still have a chance for redemption."

Her face contorted in agony. "You killed my sister!"

"And Uther as good as killed my father," said Merlin. "But we can move past that, Morgana. Is this how you want to live? The destroyer of the world?"

Morgana hesitated, and her eyes seemed watery. She flicked her eyes towards Arthur, who also froze. Their eyes met, and Arthur felt a longing ignite within him for her to come back with them, to be as they once had. She seemed to be thinking the same thing. Her eyes softened, and the anger drained from her face, leaving her looking lonely and confused again.

She took a tiny step towards him.

"No!" Hafela screeched, leaping forward with surprising agility considering his ruined state and seizing hold of Morgana. "You are the Prophesied One!"

Morgana struggled in his grasp, her eyes flaming with anger. "I don't have to do anything you say!" she screamed, glaring at him. "You disgust me!"

Hafela's eyes glowed green. "You will not betray us!"

"It's over, Hafela, let her go!" Merlin shouted, also glaring at him. "She will not open the Portal."

Hafela turned his gaze on Merlin, flames almost seeming to spout from his eyes.

"She will," he hissed. "It was foretold. It does not have to be willingly."

And with that, he began dragging Morgana towards the Portal.

Merlin yelled and threw some powerful spell at him that seemed to burn the entire room, but Hafela raised a shield that repelled it. Morgana continued struggling. She screamed, and her eyes glowed golden.

A huge burst of energy exploded from her, and sent Hafela flying backwards and hitting against the cavern wall. But Morgana was weak, and she staggered on the spot, disorientated. She began to fall to the ground, and as she did so, her hand, for the briefest of moments, passed through the veil.

Immediately, the room seemed shrouded in darkness. Wailing shrieks came from the Portal along with icy blasts of wind and threw Arthur and the Knights across the room. Arthur fell to the ground winded and in pain, but he barely noticed. The entire room was filled with terrible screaming. Ghostly figures seemed to soar from the depths of the Portal and circle the room, filling the area with an icy cold touch, bringing despair to the very depths of Arthur's heart.

He watched in horror. The Portal had been opened. They had lost.

"NO!" Arthur heard Merlin cry, but he knew it was too late. Nothing could be done.

Arthur felt himself sink to the ground, and misery, and horror fill every inch of his being. Death was all around him. His mind was a tempest of pain and darkness. The Darkness was taking him …

A huge whirlwind filled the cavern, and Arthur found himself blown away from the other Knights. The ghostly shapes began circling the room and coming from the Portal with ever increasing rapidity, swooping here and there with their bone-chilling screams.

Hafela stood before the Portal and spread his arms wide.

"At last!" he screeched, cackling insanely. "The Noble Art is released!"

The remaining Wandrian sorcerers cackled with him and began leaping for joy in the air, hollering and whooping in strangled voices, their black eyes gleaming with cruelty.

Despite the coldness and despair in Arthur's heart as he watched the evils from beyond the Veil spill out into the world, he knew, he couldn't stay here. He couldn't sit and watch.

He looked sideways through the winds and glowering shadows and saw the rest of his Knights watching the Portal with horrified eyes. They turned to face him, and they exchanged grim nods.

With difficulty in the roaring wind, Arthur stood up and clutched his sword tightly, his eyes fixed on the celebrating sorcerers. The Portal may have been opened, everything may now be lost, but there was no way in hell he was going to sit back and do nothing. He may be facing his own death, but he'd make sure he'd take as many of this evil scum with him as he could.

"For the love of Camelot!" he cried once more, his Knights also crying out with him in unison. Then, as one great force, they leapt forward and charged towards the sorcerers in one final push.

If they were going to die, then at least it would be fighting, and not hiding. He would die protecting this land from the darkness.

The sorcerers were completely unawares. At the last moment they looked around and saw the Knights with drawn swords charging towards them.

Arthur screamed as he slashed here and there with his sword, slicing through as many shields and limbs as he could. They tried to repel him with magic, but none of their spells met their mark, whether due to Merlin's spell or some other power, Arthur did not know.

Sorcerers began to flee, terrified of the force coming towards them, their black eyes fearful and tormented.

Arthur caught sight of Merlin, and struggled towards him through the buffeting winds coming from the Portal. Merlin was crouched near the ground, and Arthur saw at the last moment that he was not alone.

Morgana was lying there, half supported by Merlin, shaking with exertion, her face pale and afraid. She looked up as Arthur approached, and she seemed to crumple.

"I'm sorry!" she gasped, looking up at him, tears filling her wide eyes. "I didn't mean … I'm sorry …"

He leaned down and pulled her to him, hugging her fiercely, letting every emotion he'd felt since her betrayal spill over and into this hug, holding her tightly. He felt his own composure breaking.

He met her eyes again, and spoke, his voice a little shaky. "We're family, Morgana. Remember that."

She nodded, and clutched at him, still looking lost and afraid. He saw the regret and remorse in her eyes, he saw the pain and suffering. Why had this had to happen now, right at the end?

Morgana turned and looked to Merlin, also holding on to him. "What do we do now?"

Merlin turned his tortured face away from her and looked across the room, where the Knights were still fighting, the ghostly shapes still screaming, and Hafela still standing before the Portal cackling wildly.

"We have to close the Portal," he said. "We have to end this."

"How?" Arthur asked desperately, feeling the darkness worm its way into his heart once more. "It's hopeless!"

"No," said Merlin quietly. He looked back at Arthur. "The prophecy. It said a death would mark my descent into darkness- that was Wrecan- and only another death can bring me back. And only a death can close the Portal- mine."

"No!" cried Morgana. "You can't!"

"I have to," said Merlin. "It's the only way."

"No, Merlin!" Arthur said, reaching forwards and grabbing onto his arm. "There has to be another way. You can't sacrifice yourself like this!"

"If I don't," said Merlin, his eyes blazing, "people are going to die. I have to."

And immediately, his eyes flashed golden and Arthur and Morgana were thrown backwards. Merlin leapt up and ran towards the Portal. Arthur scrambled to his feet to race after him-

"Oh no you don't, young Pendragon," a wheezy voice said near to him, and the other Elder, Gamol was standing there. "Let Emrys kill himself if he chooses. With any luck, he and Hafela will kill each other off, leaving the room for me to finally take the leadership I was denied."

Arthur lifted his sword up, determined to strike down this hateful man before Merlin got to the Portal. Gamol laughed. "A mortal weapon?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, and it's time for you to face your mortality."

He slashed his sword through the air, shining in the darkness of the cavern, but it did not make contact with the Elder. He laughed.

"All out of luck, Pendragon."

Suddenly, faster than Arthur could have imagined, the Elder whipped his hand up and sent a spell shooting towards him. Arthur had no time to dive out of the way.

The spell hit him with such force Arthur felt himself fly back several feet and hit the back wall. He could barely breathe. He knew now Merlin's shield had finally given out.

Gamol approached him, cackling as he looked down on Arthur's form on the ground.

"The mighty Arthur Pendragon," laughed Gamol, his rotten skin seeming to be peeling away with every word. "Alone and dying at the end of the world. The Light is gone, the Darkness shall conquer all!"

And Arthur made no move to defend himself, how could he? What could he possibly do against such magic?

The darkness in his heart seemed to spread through all of his body. What was the point? He was going to die anyway. Wasn't it better to die now than linger on for the torturous end?

Gamol stood over him, leering at him.

"Goodbye, young Pendragon."

"_Acwellan!"_ Arthur heard cried, but Gamol was not the one who said it.

Gamol was thrown off his feet and several feet away, crying out in pain as his own shield flickered out of existence. Arthur looked around, expecting to see Merlin, but saw only the boy, Gehola, standing firm with his hand outstretched.

Why was he still fighting? Couldn't he see the end was here already?

The darkness continued spreading through him, speeding through his veins and bringing him further into shadow. It was hopeless …

Gamol began to struggle to his feet and turned back to Arthur, pure hatred in his eyes.

"No! Arthur!"

Arthur's heart leapt as he heard that voice. He sat up fully and turned his head to see Guinevere standing at the entrance to the cavern, looking in horror at Gamol approaching Arthur.

Gamol turned at the sound of the voice and laughed. Just as quickly as he had attacked Arthur, he lifted a hand and sent a spell rushing towards her.

"No! Guinevere!" Arthur yelled, leaping to his feet. Something had snapped within him. He had to get to her; hope wasn't lost as long as she was here.

He ran towards Gamol, lifting his sword as he did so and brought it down with full force on the old ruined man, slicing through flesh and bone until he crumpled to the ground in a pile of rotten flesh and black substance.

But the spell had already hit its mark.

"Guinevere!" Arthur cried, running towards her, lying on the ground.

He reached her, and pulled her close, sighing with relief when he heard her breathing. But the wound to her abdomen, visible through the bunt hole in her dress, was charred and black, like Gwaine's had been.

Arthur shook in terror. _No, he couldn't lose her … not like this …_

A presence by his side told him Gehola had rushed over as well. Arthur turned to him.

"Can you save her?"

Gehola shook his head. "No, I don't know how. But Merlin could."

"Merlin?' asked Arthur, and then a coldness hit him. "Merlin! He's going to sacrifice himself! You have to stop him!"

Gehola's eyes widened. "He can't"

And with that he leapt to his feet and raced off to the Portal. Arthur did not follow. He could do nothing with magic, he couldn't help Merlin now. He had to stay here with Gwen.

He held her ever closely, willing her to open her eyes, to laugh and smile like she used to. He was vaguely aware of the other Knights standing around him. But he knew they couldn't help. Only Merlin could.

Arthur only hoped Gehola could stop him.

* * *

Merlin was running, running towards the Portal and the evil man standing before it he had to close the Portal, no matter the cost.

He felt his heart racing, as though knowing it only had a limited amount of time left in which to beat. He had to do this, he had to do this for Camelot, for Arthur and the Knights, for Gwen, for Gaius … for the entire world.

Hafela was standing before the Portal, rejoicing in the evil that was coming from it, the awful tortured screams and darkness and shadow. He seemed oblivious to all else.

Merlin fixed his eyes on the Portal, a black chasm from which awful ghost-like creatures came screaming out of, bringing despair, death and misery along with them. He had to close it. He couldn't hesitate.

He ran forwards.

Hafela suddenly turned and saw him.

"No!" he screeched! "You will not stop this!"

A force of power rose up inside Merlin stronger than he'd ever experienced before. His eyes flashed gold, and Hafela was thrown aside like a rag doll. The path was clear.

He ran towards it-

"NO!"

Some spell hit him from behind causing him to trip up. He twisted round quickly, expecting Hafela, but instead found Gehola standing there.

"What are you doing?" Merlin shouted, standing up again. "I have to close the Portal!"

"Not like this!" cried Gehola, stepping closer. "It can't end like this, Merlin!"

"It has to!" Merlin said, trying not to let Gehola's pleading affect him. "You remember the prophecy! Only another death can stop the darkness!"

"But not yours, Merlin!" Gehola said. "That's not what the prophecy means! You have to live!"

"No!" said Merlin. "I have to die. I have to stop this. It's my destiny."

"No," said Gehola, taking another step closer. "Your destiny is to help Arthur make Camelot a better place."

"That's what I'm doing!" Merlin said, trying desperately to get him to understand. "If I don't do this, there won't _be_ a Camelot at all!"

Gehola shook his head, and took a few steps away from him.

"I won't let you do this," he said. "I won't let you forsake all your friends."

"What other choice do I have?" Merlin asked, turning back to face the Portal. "I have to end this now."

"No!" Gehola cried, leaping in between Merlin and the Portal. "This isn't what you're meant to do. You're Emrys. You've got a larger role to play."

He turned and looked at the Portal. "Gwen's hurt. She needs you. The others all need you. You have friends who care for you. I don't. I've never had a family like you do. There aren't many who'll miss me …"

"Gehola …" Merlin began, a new horror seeping into him. "No …"

Gehola turned and smiled at him. "You know, for the first time in my life, I'm not afraid."

He turned once more.

"Gehola! No!" Merlin shouted, leaping forwards to try and grab him, but he was too late. Before Merlin could as much as touch him, before he could summon a spell to his lips, Gehola had ran forwards and thrown himself through the Portal.

Before Merlin could recoil in shock and horror, before anything else, there came a great rushing wind, stronger than anything that had come before, knocking him clean off his feet. The ghostly figures in the room screamed ever louder, causing Merlin to clap his hands over his ears as the shrill shrieks caused agonising pain in his mind.

The figures, the darkness and the shadow all began being pulled back into the Portal, making such a racket Merlin thought the entire cavern was caving in. He lay there on the ground, shaking with adrenaline, with fear, and with grief.

A horrible cry met his ears. He looked up, still unable to stand for the buffeting winds. Hafela stood there, his black eyes staring at the Portal, screaming with rage. The skin on his face was turning blacker, his eyes went green and every inch of him seemed to be disintegrating before his very eyes.

"Noooooo!" Hafela cried, even as the remaining flesh on his body began to rot at tremendous speeds and fall to the ground in pools of thick black substance. The bones began to show, before they too began to crack and fade away.

Hafela screamed one last time, and then, all that was left was a pile of dust on the floor in a heap of sad rags.

The swirling darkness continued screaming and moaning ever louder and louder until …. Sudden silence as the last of the shadow swept back through the Portal, and the Veil was visible once more, fluttering almost innocently in the quiet cavern.

Merlin lay on the ground breathing heavily, unable to move. He didn't want to look up to see the Veil. He didn't want to look around to see how many of his friends had survived. It almost didn't seem to matter now.

_Gehola …_

Merlin tried to fight back the tumult of emotion within him. Gehola was gone …

Why hadn't he stopped him? Why hadn't he done more? He hadn't deserved that. He was just a boy. He'd never had a real chance at happiness. It was cruel to deny him the life he should have had.

Eventually, Merlin lifted himself from the ground, feeling his heavy heart dragging him down. He didn't look at the Portal, he couldn't.

He turned and saw the bodies of all the Wandrian sorcerers lying before him, some killed by Knights, some by Merlin, and the rest by the closing of the Portal.

There was movement in one corner. Merlin ran forwards and saw the Knights standing in a circle around Arthur, who was clutching Guinevere to him, his face desperate. Even Morgana was looking on, though standing well back as though not certain she was welcome. Arthur looked up as Merlin approached.

"You're alive!" he cried, astonished. "But the Portal closed, I thought-"

"Gehola did it," said Merlin, feeling the pain anew. "He did it …"

Arthur nodded, understanding. He looked down at Gwen, his eyes tortured. "Can you save her? Can you save her like you did Gwaine?"

Merlin crouched down beside Arthur and took Gwen from him, examining her and placing a hand on her brow. He looked to Arthur.

"You want me to use magic to save her?"

Arthur looked once more at her face. "Yes," he nodded, his eyes suspiciously wet. "She trusted in you, Merlin. She forgave you and accepted you for who you are. This is what she'd want of me. I … want you to use magic, Merlin. Show me the good it can do."

Merlin nodded, and placed his hands over the wound on her abdomen. Unlike with Gwaine, he wasn't doubtful of his ability to save her. He knew he could do this, he didn't need a second try. Gehola had died so that Merlin could save Gwen. He wouldn't fail. This was the chance he had been given.

"_Hælan__ se wif, heo beon freond,_" Merlin said, and poured every last ounce of magic he possessed into the spell, all his love, his loyalty his grief for his lost friend into it, feeling his eyes flare bright and a golden haze surrounded Gwen, shimmering and sparkling in the darkness of the cave.

Arthur and the others fell back in shock, looking in astonishment at Merlin as he poured more and more of himself into the spell.

Eventually, the golden haze vanished, and Gwen was left completely unscathed by the attack she had suffered, all trace of the wound vanished. Her eyes fluttered open and she moaned gently. She sat up slowly and her eyes met Merlin's. Her eyes flicked to the Portal, and she laughed.

"You did it, Merlin!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "I knew you would."

Merlin did not hug her back, he just sat there, stiffly. "I didn't," he almost whispered. "It wasn't me."

She drew back in confusion. "But-"

She looked around the group standing above her. "Where's Gehola?"

At this, Merlin hung his head. "He closed it. He saved us all. I promised him he'd have a better life after all of this is over. I failed him …"

"No," said Gwen, placing a hand on Merlin's face, her voice soothing even as her own eyes filled with tears. "Any one of us would have done the same. He chose this, Merlin."

"I brought him into it," said Merlin, feeling the grief begin to overwhelm him. "I shouldn't have done it."

"The time he spent as your friend, Merlin, was probably the happiest he ever had," Gwen said. "You gave him a chance to be more than their miserable slave. He died for what he believed in, he died fighting against the ones who made his life a misery. We should honour that."

Merlin nodded. "You're right. But …"

"I know," she agreed. "It's a cruel fate. But we can't give up. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain."

Merlin nodded again and sniffed. He stood again, feeling his burdens lighten somewhat. He reached down and helped Gwen to her feet, shaky as she was. Arthur immediately rushed forwards and offered her support. He held onto her tightly, pulling her close to him.

"Guinevere … I was so worried …"

Gwen hugged him back, and Arthur looked over her shoulder at Merlin. "Thank you," he said, his face sincere. "Thank you …"

Merlin managed a small smile. He looked away. As glad he was Gwen was alright, the sight of them looking so happy was almost too much for him.

"We should leave," Arthur said, looking around. "We need to get back to Camelot and give them the good news. The Wandrian are defeated."

"Does that include _all_ of us?" Gwaine asked, and he and all the others turned to look at Merlin.

Merlin and Arthur looked at each other for the longest of moments. Arthur's eyes were filled with conflicting emotion, but Merlin detected no fear, no anger … just gratitude, shame and regret.

"Yes," said Arthur, taking a step back to Merlin. "We're all going."

Merlin almost smiled. "What about your father?"

"I'll deal with him," Arthur said. "You saved Camelot today, Merlin. You at least deserve the chance to come back with us and explain."

Merlin raised his eyebrows. "Explain?"

"Of course," said Arthur. "Do you honestly think I'm going to let you get away with it?"

For a moment, Merlin felt a tiny twinge of fear, but then it was dispelled when he saw the playful smirk on Arthur's face.

Merlin nodded. "Alright."

Arthur nodded, and together they all turned and made to leave the cave, but the sight before them stopped them dead in their tracks.

The Druids from earlier, the Bewitan, were standing before them, having sneaked in silently while they were all occupied.

The leader stepped forwards, and once more, bowed to Merlin.

"Greetings, Lord Emrys," he said. "We rejoice in your success. You are truly as great as the prophecies say."

At this, Merlin suddenly felt a raging anger.

"Why didn't you come?" Merlin demanded of them. "We could have used you!"

The leader, Wacian, shook his head. "That was not our task. You had to do this final part alone without guidance from us."

"Convenient, that," snorted Merlin. "Gehola is dead because of you!"

At this, Wacian smiled. "I think not, Lord Emrys."

Merlin's heart froze. "What do you mean? I saw him!"

"Young Gehola was always meant to find you, Lord Emrys," Wacian said. "He is one of us, one of the few who can draw magic from the external sources of the Old Religion in nature. He discovered this ability on his own, and, unable to be guided, he took too much of the Old Religion inside of himself, hence his unusual abilities. It is that which may have saved him."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, getting increasingly desperate. Was there a chance that-

A sudden great roaring sound filled the cavern, and everyone ducked as it seemed the entire place was about to cave in on itself. The coldness and remaining darkness inside the cave seemed to vanish, and a great blinding light filled the room, making everyone cover their eyes. When it had faded, Merlin sensed a change in the very fabric of the world.

The Dark Magic was gone. No longer was it seeping into the world through the tear in the Veil. It was completely gone.

He wheeled around in amazement and saw that the Veil was gone, and only solid rock was where it had once been. But the best part was the small figure lying curled up on the ground before it.

Hardly daring to believe it, Merlin raced forwards, Arthur and the others at his side. He threw himself on the ground and seized the small figure by his cloak and turned him around.

Gehola was there, his eyes closed, but breathing.

"Gehola!" cried Merlin and Gwen at the same time.

Slowly, Gehola's eyes fluttered open.

"Merlin?"

Merlin grinned broadly and laughed, and both he and Gwen, who had fallen down beside him, pulled Gehola into a tight hug, the three of them in a mass of limbs and happiness.

But Gehola pulled back. "I don't understand," he said, frowning. "I thought I had to die to close the Portal? Isn't that what the prophecy said?"

"You did die, in a sense," said Wacian, who had also come over with the others. "You gained magic by absorbing it, like all your kin, but you went too far. You took too much of it within yourself because no one was there to help you. The emotional attachment you had to the tree to protect you from Dark Magic only fuelled its power further"

"You were always destined to meet Emrys. To bring him to your kin and help him discover the location of the Portal, to sacrifice yourself to save him and to allow him to save this young lady and gain the forgiveness and trust of the Prince. Emrys was there to deliver you from the evil of the Wandrian, and you gave him the opportunity to come here to save us all. You kept him sane, and gave him reason to survive the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him."

"Neither of you could have succeeded without the other, and without the two of you, the darkness would now have consumed the world. The Old Religion took on a life of its own inside of you, Gehola. It was always supposed to exist within you, for when you sacrificed yourself, the power of the Old Religion was able to repair the tear in the Veil and forever banish Dark Magic from this land. That life within you is now gone. The pure magic of the Old Religion no longer lives within you."

Gehola stared. "You mean … it's gone? I … don't have magic anymore?"

"No," smiled Wacian.

Gehola's face lit up in delight. "That's great!"

"Great?" choked Merlin. "What's so great about being normal?"

"Everything!" Gehola said, looking thrilled. "I always wanted to just be normal. To live like other people. I told you before, I never wanted magic. This is what I wanted."

Merlin shook his head. "I can't believe you _prefer_ not having magic …" but then he grinned. "But magic or not, I couldn't care less. You're here, and that makes me happier than anything else."

"You mean, you missed me?" Gehola asked, looking confused.

"Yeah," said Gwaine, laughing. "Almost crying like a little girl he was."

Gehola's eyes went even wider. "No one's ever missed me before."

Gwen also laughed. "Well, get used to it," she said, hugging him again. "You're coming back to Camelot with us, and I'm not about to let you out of my sight!"

Gehola still looked bewildered, but happy. Merlin still couldn't believe it. He felt like he was floating through some incredible dream. The Wandrian were gone, Dark Magic was banished, Gehola was alive and his friends had forgiven him. Could it get any better than this?

He turned to the Bewitan. "Thank you," he said to them.

"Thank you, Lord Emrys," they said, bowing again. "It was never your destiny to rid the world of Dark Magic, but only to save the Prophesied One, and that you have accomplished. Now you are free to pursue your true destiny, to guide the Once and Future King and unite the lands of Albion; to create peace for our people."

"I'll try my best," said Merlin.

The Bewitan bowed once more, and retreated out of the cave.

Once they had gone, Merlin turned to face the one person he most desired to see. Standing in a shadowing corner, trying to look inconspicuous was Morgana. She noticed him staring at her, and she bowed her head.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice thick. "I tried to stop it, but I wasn't strong enough."

"But your will was, and that is enough," said Merlin, taking a step towards her,

She shook her head. "The Portal was still opened, and that boy almost died. It was my fault. I shouldn't have been so silly, I shouldn't have let it get this far. I was too stubborn."

"A family fault, I'm afraid," said Arthur, also stepping closer, watching her closely with hopeful and emotional eyes. "If I had had more faith in Merlin, this may not have happened. It wasn't Merlin who betrayed me; it was I that betrayed him. But now he and I have a second chance."

She looked up at him. "I don't deserve a second chance, Arthur. I tried to kill you, and everyone in Camelot.'

"Yes, you do deserve a second chance, Morgana," said Arthur. "You're my sister, and I say you do."

"How can you forgive everything that I've done?" she whispered. "I'm an awful human being."

"A truly awful person does not show remorse for their actions," said Merlin, and Morgana looked to him again. "You did. You tried to stop it. And that makes all the difference in the world."

Arthur and Merlin, who had both been stepping closer to Morgana were now side-by-side in front of her.

"You didn't deserve the way you were treated," said Arthur, "neither of you did. But I'm going to change that. I swear, Morgana. I'm going to change everything and make it so that this never happens again."

"Will you come back with us?" Merlin asked. "Will you help rebuild Camelot into a better place?"

Morgana looked between the two of them, her eyes watery and her mouth open. Then, without warning, she threw her arms around both of them, almost knocking the wind out of them.

They both hugged her back, and Morgana stepped backwards and grinned.

"I'll come, if you'll have me," she said, smirking, looking like her old self. "I hope you know what you've let yourself in for."

Arthur looked at Merlin and Morgana, then back at all the others.

"No, I have absolutely no idea what the future will be like," Arthur said. "But honestly? I don't care. I'm going to have a hell of a time discovering it."

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review!**

**Honestly, I'm not too sure about this chapter. Almost seems a bit too easy and cheesy now that I look back on it, but I have to stick with my original plan :)**

**Anyways, almost over now! Just a short epilogue left which I'll post very soon :)**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: Here it is, the final chapter! I'd like to thank those of you who've left reviews, kind comments and constructive criticism, especially Clio Ying, your reviews always bring a massive smile to my face :)**

**Pretty glad this is over now, it's been equally as fun as trying to write. I often gave up on it and I'm just glad now that it's over after two years. Hope you enjoy the final chapter! **

* * *

It was now a week since the Portal had been closed, and Merlin was still in Camelot, miraculously, not having had his head chopped off yet.

Their homecoming had been joyous to say the least. The streets had been filled with admirers, throwing flowers on the paths of the Knights and crying their names with delighted voices. Many had whispered and looked afraid at the sight of Merlin, but Merlin hadn't cared because he'd seen Gaius practically sprinting down the street to see him, proud tears in his eyes.

Arthur had spent the last week trying to reorganise the city and regain the people's trust. The Knights had done likewise, heading to all the outer villages to announce the news, rebuild attacked garrisons and reestablish regular trade routes, now without fear of being attacked.

Merlin for his part had gone back once more to the land of the Wandrian. The Dark Magic already seemed lighter there, and the presence of the great tree of the Old Religion seemed almost to be rejuvenating the area. Still in the shacks in the village were the sorcerers who had not used Dark Magic, the ones driven into hiding by Uther and suffering under the rule of the Wandrian, almost driven insane by the Dark Magic. Gehola had been eager to help them all, and Merlin only too willing to assist. Those who were too ill to look after themselves were with the Druid clan Gehola had now adopted as his own to be cared for. Gehola spent a lot of time with these Druids, hearing stories about his parents, learning more about himself and the others. But one thing was certain, and that was that Gehola in no way missed his magic. The Druids had told him he could regain it if he wished and learn how to use it properly, but he had no desire to. He wanted to help others. It wasn't that he was afraid of magic, ashamed of it or fearful of its corrupting influence, he just didn't want it.

Merlin was happy for him, even though he didn't quite understand it. He'd even managed to find some distant relations, and Merlin could tell the boy had never been more thrilled. He'd barely stopped smiling since the Portal was closed.

Merlin felt nothing but relief after the end of everything. Hafela and the other Elders were dead and Dark Magic was no more.

One person however rested on his mind. Morgana had secluded herself as much as possible from the people, particularly after her own less than warm welcome from the citizens of Camelot. She holed herself up in Uther's chambers, holding onto his hand by his bed, but he didn't recognise her. Anyone could see by the look on her face how tortured this made her feel.

The others, save perhaps Arthur, were wary around her, but Guinevere alone had fully welcomed her back. She often sat with Morgana by Uther's bedside, holding on to her other hand, not even needing to speak. Morgana didn't say it, but Merlin could tell she appreciated it. It was going to take a while for Morgana to regain her former self, but Merlin knew it was only a matter of time. She had support this time; she had no reason to be afraid.

There was only one last thing that weighed heavily on him, filling all his thoughts as he stood by a window in the palace looking out over the city: Arthur.

So far, he had said very little about anything, preferring to devote his time and effort into making the city safe again, but Merlin knew the conversation was coming, and coming soon.

Almost as if his mind had been read, he sensed someone approach from behind. He smiled. "Hello, Arthur."

He turned and saw indeed, Arthur standing behind him. He frowned.

"How did you know it was me? Did you use magic?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "No. Your chain-mail jingles as you walk."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence between them, Arthur avoided Merlin's gaze.

"Have you … have you had any difficulty in the city since we came back?"

"A little," admitted Merlin. "Not many are happy to see me. But I can look after myself."

Arthur nodded, but looked disturbed. "You saved their lives. You and Gehola. They should be thanking you, not censuring you."

Merlin shrugged. "It's hard to overturn a lifetime of belief."

"I have."

Arthur had now turned his eyes to Merlin's, looking almost tentative.

"You have?" Merlin asked quietly.

"Yes," said Arthur. "It's … it's been hard. I've always been taught magic is evil, but I've never fully believed it. Even before … this, I wasn't sure. And when I found out about you …"

Arthur sighed heavily. "Well, let's just say it made me reevaluate everything I've ever known. And I've discovered that I've acted like a complete idiot."

"A bit like me then?"

Arthur smiled. "Perhaps not as big an idiot as you." He watched Merlin carefully for a moment or two. "You really aren't any different, are you? You're just the same as you've always been."

Merlin nodded. "Yes."

"And you didn't tell me because …"

"I was afraid," said Merlin.

"I don't know what I would have done," said Arthur, "but did you really think I would execute you?"

"I wasn't sure," said Merlin, "and that wasn't all I was afraid of."

"Oh? What else was there?"

"That you'd never trust me again. That our friendship would be ruined."

Arthur was silent for the longest time. "It isn't ruined, Merlin," he said slowly. "Just … well, we've just hit a bump on the road."

Merlin felt a stirring of hope. "Then you forgive me?"

Arthur smiled. "Yes. I forgive the deceit and the lies because I know now you had no other choice. You shouldn't have had to live in fear for your life just for being yourself. It was Camelot and its stupid laws that forced you to live in secret. I can hardly blame you for that."

He paused for a moment, looking rather awkward. "I shouldn't really be the one doing the forgiving. Like I said, you had no other choice. It is I that should apologise."

"Athur-"

"No, let me finish," said Arthur interrupting. "I was such a fool. I should have never doubted you, I should never have believed for a moment that you would betray Camelot. I betrayed you, Merlin. Can you forgive me for that?"

"Well," said Merlin, slowly, enjoying the look on Arthur's face. "I suppose …"

Arthur nodded, and looked relieved.

Merlin grinned, and found he couldn't stop. "But what about those stupid laws now? You're breaking the law by even talking to me."

Arthur smirked. "Not exactly." He moved over to the window and looked out over the city with Merlin. "Before you turned up here a week ago, I assumed the regency of Camelot, giving me the power in my father's stead. The moment we returned, I summoned the Council members into a meeting, and drafted some new laws. They weren't happy with them, but fortunately I'm very persuasive."

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing.

Arthur turned his head and smiled at him. "The news laws were officially passed this morning. Sorcerers, Druids and all other users of magic are now free peoples in the land of Camelot and free to practice magic where they choose, provided of course they do no harm to others."

Merlin's jaw dropped. "You're … you're joking! What about your father?"

Arthur turned and looked at him seriously. "He's in no position to argue. And besides, perhaps if it hadn't been for those laws in the first place we wouldn't have been attacked by so many other sorcerers. I'm taking charge, and this is what I want Camelot to be; a place without fear and hatred. It might take a while, but are you willing to work with me to achieve it?"

Merlin nodded dumbly, unable to say anything. Arthur smirked again.

"I thought up a new position for you, if you want. How does Court Sorcerer sound?"

Merlin's eyes bulged. "Uh … yeah … I …"

Arthur burst out laughing. "You don't have to look so much like a startled deer, Merlin. You'll probably be just as hopeless at this as you were a manservant."

Merlin nodded and looked away from him, still trying to comprehend all the mass of emotions he was feeling. Court Sorcerer, the laws on magic repealed … he could never have hoped for anything like this. He'd always thought that it would take years to bring Arthur around let alone convince him to repeal the laws.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, he could never have imagined.

Arthur came a little closer and had an amused smiled on his lips. "You're not crying are you, Merlin?"

"Of course not," said Merlin, immediately blinking several times.

But contrary to the normal him, Arthur didn't laugh. "That's why I did it," he said quietly. "This will change the lives of so many people, so many good and honest people who can be truly free."

Merlin turned to him. "You're a good man, Arthur," he said, completely honestly. "And it will be my honour to serve you until the day I die."

Arthur nodded, solemn for a moment, before cracking a smile.

"Come on, Merlin. I saw you kill powerful sorcerers with a single word! Don't go getting soft now!"

Merlin laughed. "No, I won't."

They looked out over the city together and Merlin, for the first time since arriving in Camelot felt truly content.

Arthur turned back to Merlin.

"Come on then, lazy! We've got a hell of a lot of work to do!"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, Sire."

A new era was beginning.

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review! I admit, this story isn't one of my better ones, but I'd like your comments all the same, constructive or complimentary, I welcome both :)**

**Thanks to those of you who followed from the beginning, I'm amazed you've stuck by it!**


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